


I Want You to Find Me

by PorcupineGirl



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Porn, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dom Eric "Bitty" Bittle, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Facials, First Time, Hair-pulling, Light Masochism, M/M, Sub Jack Zimmermann, The Porn Is the Plot, Therapy, camboy au, depends on how you define this nebulous social construct, if I missed any sex acts or other important tags let me know, the OFC is Jack's therapist, this is just filth filth and more filth tbh, this is the fic that asks: how many times can a boy lose his virginity?, virginity as an abstract concept
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-01-25 14:29:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18576391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorcupineGirl/pseuds/PorcupineGirl
Summary: When Jack found a new camshow to watch over the summer, he thought he'd just found some porn to enjoy once a week or so.Six months later, he finds himself sitting in his therapist's office awkwardly explaining how it turns out he foundso much more than that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Can you believe it's been _over a year and a half_ since I last posted an explicit fic???
> 
> Don't worry, this one makes up for all that lost time.
> 
> Fully written, beta'd by the ever-lovely [redscudery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redscudery), and edited, a little under 23K words. I think I'm going to split it up into 5 chapters for posting.
> 
> I know very little about how camshows work, so I've basically made up features and technologies that may or may not actually exist but are really damn convenient for the purposes of this fic. Please take this whole fic with a large grain of salt.
> 
> I have _so many_ unfinished fics right now, and my current goal is to try and push through finishing as many as possible. The only new one I'm allowed to start for the next six-ish months is my FTH fic.
> 
> Title from the Divinyls' _I Touch Myself_ because of course it is.

"I know you aren't really here to give me advice, per se" Jack says, squeezing his hands together, "and you don't have to. Obviously. It's a weird situation and I—I don't want to make you uncomfortable. But you are literally the only person that I can possibly talk to about this."

"Well, why don't you explain the situation to me," Janet says, voice as steady and even as ever, "and I'll see if I have any advice I'm comfortable giving you. If you can't talk to any of your friends or family about it, just talking it out out loud might help you figure out what to do without any input from me."

Jack snorts in amusement. "Not likely. I have no clue how to handle this."

"Well, let's find out. What's going on?"

Jack chews his lip. He can't bring himself to look at her.

It's not like he's never talked to his therapist about sex before. Or his sexuality. His first therapist right out of rehab, not so much; the guy hadn't seemed homophobic, but Jack had never fully trusted him. But Janet is a butch lesbian, and he's always felt comfortable talking to her about that kind of thing. Hell, he even told her when he realized he was attracted to Bittle. He hasn't told her about his other feelings, but only because he didn't figure them out until a few weeks ago.

But, well. This is different.

"Um. Well. I… watch porn sometimes."

"Which is totally normal. Most men do, and so do a lot of other people."

"Sure," Jack says, nodding but still not looking up. "And I've learned a lot about, um, ethical porn from Shitty. So for the past couple years, I've mostly watched camshows. Because, like… the people doing those have more control over what they do and when they do it, and the money goes directly to the performer, and all that stuff."

"That's great," Janet says. "More people should think about the ethics of the pornography they consume."

Jack blushes. Apparently he can _say_ what kind of porn he watches, but being _praised_ for it tips him over into embarrassment. Well, he'd better get used to embarrassment if he's going to make it through this story.

"So, um, this summer I started watching this one guy regularly."

—

He'd found the guy one night in his hotel room in Chicago. The training camp was going okay, but he felt like he had nothing in common with the other not-yet-rookies—a bunch of guys as young as frogs, but not liberal enough or intellectually curious enough to go to a school like Samwell. So Jack spent a lot of time either wandering the city by himself or shut in his hotel room reading or watching Netflix. Or porn, occasionally.

He had a handful of favorite camshows, enough that just about anytime he was horny chances were good that one of them was online. His favorite camboy had just shut down his channel unexpectedly a week or so ago, though. And that night Jack was in the mood for a guy, but the two m/f couples he watched were offline. So he went surfing around for a new show.

It wasn't long before he found someone with the build he liked best—lean, lithe, muscular—and nice summer tan. The guy, who went by the name Richie (undoubtedly a pseudonym) didn't let the camera show anything higher than about 6" above his navel or lower than mid-thigh, but it was obvious from even that that he was a blonde. Jack preferred guys who didn't show their faces, since somehow it seemed like the ones with bodies he liked rarely had faces he found as attractive. This way, he could imagine Richie looking like whatever he was in the mood for.

There was no sound, which Jack didn't particularly mind. Half the time he muted it anyhow—he'd rather it be silent than listen to some exaggerated porn-moaning that didn't sound at all real.

Richie's cock was gorgeous. Not extremely long, but thick, maybe thicker than Jack's despite the fact that the rest of Richie's body was slim and compact, smaller than his own. It wasn't hard for Jack to imagine stretching his mouth around it, how the smooth skin would feel on his tongue, the ache he'd get in his jaw. He wanted to take it down until he gagged on it. That thought alone had him half hard. 

That night was just a short show—Richie, kneeling on a bed with plain white pillows and a light green wall behind him, getting himself off. He went slow, but it still only lasted about fifteen minutes. But it was enough; when Richie covered his own hand with come and then smeared it across his abs, Jack followed not thirty seconds later.

He wasn't completely sure this was someone he'd want to add to his regular rotation. No matter how hot the guy was, fifteen minute jerkoff sessions would get boring quickly. But Jack figured he'd give Richie a couple more tries and bookmarked the channel.

—

"I mean, I don't know, _regularly_ makes me sound like some kind of porn addict. But, like. A few times."

"Jack, I know you're not addicted to porn. I think I would have seen some sign of it before now. Again, watching pornography is totally normal, and so is watching it regularly."

"Right. Um, anyhow. There's a chat room thing. A lot of the camshows have them. I don't ever talk on it, but some people do. And he's got some app or something on his phone, so he can, uh… he can type in the chat with one hand." Jack buries his face, which might melt right off at this point, in his hands. "I promise I'm not describing porn for the hell of it, that part is actually very relevant later."

"It's fine, Jack. Whatever you need to tell me."

"So anyhow, he told us some stuff about himself. Nothing you could identify him by. I figured half of it was made up anyhow, just saying what he thought his audience wanted to hear. He said he was a gay college student."

—

The next time Jack tuned in, Richie started out by answering some questions while he stroked himself lazily. He was new to doing camshows because he'd had a roommate during the school year. But since he'd be living in a single next year, he planned to keep his channel going even if he couldn't do as many shows with classes. Someone asked how he kept in such amazing shape, and he said he was on an athletic scholarship and was actually a little soft, as summer was their off-season. The chat room went crazy with people looking forward to seeing this guy's body at peak condition, and though he never participated in the chats, Jack couldn't disagree.

Then Richie asked if there were any requests.

_Remember, I'm new at this. Nothing too crazy!_

A couple people asked for things involving toys, and he said he didn't have any but would look into it. He also made it clear that he would not be showing his face or letting them hear his voice, or doing anything else that might make him identifiable. Finally, someone asked to see his ass.

_That I can do! Maybe next time I'll open myself up a little for you, but I'm gonna have to experiment with camera angles before I try that live._

He turned around and braced himself on the wall behind the bed, sticking his ass out toward the camera.

Holy shit. His ass was small, but round and tight. Jack wondered how much of it he'd be able to get in one hand. Richie spread his cheeks, just enough so they could clearly see his hole, then teased himself with one finger for a bit.

Jack was getting pretty close just from imagining what it would be like to fuck such a tight, well-shaped ass, and when Richie suddenly turned around to show himself coming hard all over his stomach, Jack came, too. Yeah, this channel was going into his regular rotation.

—

When Jack got back to school in August, there was a surprise waiting for him: Bittle, sporting a trendy new haircut, a tan, and shorts that didn't leave much to the imagination.

 _This is fine,_ Jack thought after tripping down the porch stairs. He'd been attracted to teammates before, and it's not like he'd never noticed that Bittle was his type. He'd just seemed so _young_ last year, but now he looked… like an adult. Definitely like an adult.

But Jack could handle that. When he'd gotten to Samwell, there'd been another guy on the team, Brady, who was also incredibly hot and exactly his type. Jack had had no problem keeping his eyes to himself and treating Brady no differently from anyone else. Not that it was a problem for long; Brady turned out to be a big enough asshole to completely cancel out any physical attraction.

So Bittle suddenly being hot enough to occasionally wander into Jack's late night fantasies was not a problem.

Richie was back at school, too, his videos changing from the white pillows and green walls to a blue towel thrown over whatever bed he was on and blue walls. He also didn't have time to do videos as often, no more than once a week and usually less. When he did do them they were usually at times when Jack could tune in, though, which was great because by that point Richie was his top choice when he was feeling horny.

It didn't take him long to start attaching Bittle's face to Richie's body, even though he knew it was kind of creepy. It wasn't that different from regular fantasies, though, was it?

—

"Sometime after school started, he started describing this guy he liked, and it sounded like the guy looked like me. And, well, I couldn't see much of the cam guy but what I could see was similar to Bittle, so, uh… I guess I… enjoyed that." He pauses, not sure how much to skip over.

"You know," Janet says, seeming to mistake his pause for more embarrassment or maybe for having gotten to the thing that's bothering him and being finished, "it's also normal to form attachments to characters or performers in media. It's called a parasocial relationship, and as long as you understand the boundaries and what's real and what's not—"

Jack cracks up, which for him means an audible laugh.

"Okay," Janet says. She doesn't look annoyed at being laughed at; in fact, she looks amused herself. "Which part of what I said was funny?"

"Don't worry, I didn't fall in love with a porn star," he says, but then his face falls. "Or. Shit. Uh, actually. I mean, I didn't fall in love with some random guy because I was watching him… do things on the internet."

Janet looks at him curiously. "That's an interesting distinction to make."

Jack sighs. "Yeah…"

—

About halfway through the semester, Jack caught Richie's stream for the first time in a couple of weeks. Richie was in the middle of answering some questions, only half-hard yet, when Jack logged on.

 _Tell us more about old blue eyes_ , one viewer said. _What do you wish he was doing right now?_

Richie's body shook a little, like he was laughing.

_For anyone who wasn't here last time, someone asked me what I'm thinking about while I do these videos. Or who I'm thinking about. And I mentioned this friend of mine I like to fantasize about. He's tall and broad-shouldered and all muscley, biceps like you wouldn't believe, your archetypal super-toned jock body with an A+++ ass. Dark hair, icy blue eyes. Just fucking gorgeous, he could be a model, no problem._

Most people had stopped typing, waiting to read what he wanted this guy to do. Jack was actually a little hung up on his use of the word _archetypal_ ; it wasn't the first time Richie's vocabulary had given away how intelligent he must be. Jack definitely found that hot. It took him a minute to process the fact that Richie had basically described… him. Well, that certainly gave his fantasies a new dimension.

_Now I believe the question was what do I wish he was doing right now? Well, let's see. Sometimes I like to think that he actually watches these shows. He knows it's me but he gets off on knowing I'm right down the hall, doing this, while he's watching me in secret. But finally, one night, it gets to be too much for him and he bursts in here, horny as hell._

Richie turned around to show them the butt plug he had in. He claimed to be a virgin, though Jack figured that was probably just for the sake of viewers who got off on that kind of thing. But he did start out with a small plug that summer, saying he'd never had anything other than his own finger in there before, and it had taken him a few weeks to work his way up to a dildo.

Now he reached back and moved the plug around a little, probably rubbing his prostate with it. Jack imagined Bittle across the hall doing the same thing, Bittle getting hard imagining _him_ watching, and finally started stroking himself.

_Lord, if he came in here right now. He's probably in his pajamas, so I bet I could tell he was hard from across the room. Of course, those pjs would be the first thing to go. He'd climb up on this bed with me and get rid of this…_

Richie pulled the plug out and tossed it aside, bending so they could have a good view of his open, wet hole.

_And get his cock inside me instead, right here where you could all watch. Would y'all like that? If I did get a boyfriend, would you want to watch him fuck me, or do you like it better when it's just us?_

The chat filled up with responses, mostly leaning very enthusiastically in favor of watching Richie get fucked. Richie didn't respond after that, though; he'd grabbed a dildo from somewhere off-camera and was working it into himself. He'd gotten rid of the phone at some point so he could use both hands—they never saw the phone; he always managed to pick it up and put it down without ever getting it in frame.

Jack watched the silicone cock slide in and out of Richie's ass, slowly at first but picking up speed. It was one he'd used before, one made to look realistic with veins and all. It happened to be about the same size as Jack's dick, which made it incredibly easy for him to imagine watching himself sliding in and out of Bittle the same way. Soon Richie was fucking himself hard, and Jack was matching him with his strokes. Jack came just a moment before Richie turned to show them his own orgasm.

—

Richie was good at avoiding identifying information. He wouldn't answer anything about what school he went to, his major, what sport he played, nothing. When he talked about his friend, which he was soon being asked to do almost every session, he kept the details mostly to physical description and fantasies. He talked a lot about wanting to be deflowered on camera, about how maybe he'd put a mask over his eyes so they could watch him choke on the guy's dick or the kinds of camera angles that would best show him getting fucked. Once he mentioned fucking the guy in his fantasies, but it was clear that most of the chat room liked thinking of him as a bottom, so he stuck with what was popular. Jack couldn't blame him for that, even if he did enjoy imagining himself being fucked by Bittle.

He was pretty sure he'd been hiding his attraction successfully. Bittle gave no indication that he knew Jack was occasionally jerking off to thoughts of him, with or without watching a Bittle-lookalike camboy finger himself to orgasm. 

It wasn't like Jack was thinking about that kind of thing every time they hung out or anything—Bittle had become one of his best friends that semester, and Jack was way more interested in chirping him and making him laugh than in staring at him inappropriately. His laughter, in particular, always made Jack's stomach swoop pleasantly—maybe in surprise, since a year ago Bittle almost never laughed around him. He found himself seeking out more and more excuses for them to spend time together, whether getting coffee or frozen yogurt or sitting together on the team bus. Going out to eat with the other guys but not Bittle felt oddly disappointing.

Jack didn't give it all much thought until he was home for winter break. Richie was home, too, back in the green-walled room. He was doing shows almost every night over break; half, he said, out of boredom and half to make up for the rest of the semester. Jack didn't need to watch porn every night, but he caught a couple of them.

 _I hope you really can talk Blue Eyes into fucking you on camera sometime_ , someone said in the chat one night.

 _LOL Oh honey no,_ Richie replied. _I definitely don't want to get your hopes up for that. The boy is hot and sweet and wonderful but also straight._

 _How convenient,_ another chatter said, _your muscle-bound buddy who just happens to look like a model also just happens to be straight so you don't have to explain why we never get to see him or why you're still supposedly a "virgin". If you're gonna make shit up at least make it believable._

Jack never talked in the chats, but that pissed him off enough that he almost replied. Luckily, several other people shouted the guy down so he didn't have to.

_Sugar, if I was gonna make him up, he'd be gay and I'd be telling y'all about how good he is at fucking me or sucking my dick but claiming he's too shy to get on camera. Trust me, my dearest fantasy is not to be crazy in love with a straight boy._

That got people's attention.

_In love, huh?_

_"my dearest fantasy is not to be crazy in love with a straight boy" BIG FUCKING MOOD BITCH_

_aww i mean don't get me wrong im here to see u cum but aw_

Unfortunately, the troll wasn't done yet.

_Great, now you're giving us a fucking romance novel instead of the show we paid for. You're not even hard yet, stop talking and show us your ass._

Richie put one hand on his hip as the other chatters rushed to his defense again.

 _Looks like the show you paid for tonight was your own ass, getting banned from this channel,_ he said in the chat, and the troll's username disappeared from the chat list.

Jack couldn't help smirking at that, but even though the show of power was kind of hot, he couldn't really get into the rest of the show. His mind was spinning from the conversation, and he wound up closing his laptop less than ten minutes later, not horny at all.

He'd spent so much time imagining that Richie was Bittle that it was basically automatic at that point. As was inserting himself into the role of Richie's blue-eyed friend. Which meant that now he was imagining Bittle talking about being in love… with _him_.

And… he didn't hate it. In fact, as he looked over at what was left of the cookies he'd found snuck into his suitcase, he realized he maybe liked it even more than imagining sex with Bittle.

—

"So a couple weeks ago, this one night he talked about how he was in love with this guy. This guy who… looks like me. And it made me realize that, um. That I have feelings for Bittle. More than just thinking he's hot."

Janet puts up a hand to stop him. "Jack, you've known Bittle for a year and a half, and you've known you're physically attracted to him for several months, and this is the first time you've mentioned having romantic feelings for him. Are you sure you're not just overidentifying with this porn star because you've been projecting yourself and Bittle onto his fantasies?"

Jack shakes his head. "I told myself that. Not in those words, but, yeah. But the thing is… this isn't new. I've been…" He struggles to explain exactly what's been going on in his head with respect to Bittle lately. "I've been feeling uncomfortable lately. With how I feel about him. Like something doesn't fit. Because he's become _so_ important to me, and I couldn't figure out why. When I think about not playing with him or living with him next year, why does it hurt _so much?_ More than thinking about not seeing Shitty or Lardo, and I thought they were my best friends. He makes me feel the way hockey makes me feel. Like it's a fundamental part of me and I can't imagine life without it. But then it all made sense. I'm in love with him. As soon as I realized that… everything made sense."

Janet nods. "You have been talking about him more and more. So is that what this is really about? Realizing you have feelings for your friend?"

Jack pauses. "Well. Yes and no. I mean, if it were _just_ that, I could talk to Shitty or Lardo about it."

—

The realization surprised Jack, and it could have freaked him out for a hundred different reasons—yet he realized he was actually pretty okay with it. He had no idea if Bittle had any feelings for him, and it would kind of suck if he didn't, but he'd get over it. What mattered wasn't convincing Bittle to love him, but showing Bittle how loved he was and how much he deserved it. If Jack started to think, along the way, that maybe his feelings were returned, he'd find a chance to talk to Bittle about it.

Of course, there was the fact that Jack had no idea how to express his feelings for Bittle without doing things that were overtly romantic like getting him flowers or kissing him or buying him gifts. He tried to help out more in the kitchen, but he'd kind of already been doing that. Probably because he was in love with Bittle. He tried to sit next to him in their new lecture together, but given that it turned out that half the team was taking it with them, it was kind of hard sometimes to do that without making it _obvious_ that he was doing it.

Every time he tried to flirt, it came out more like chirping, until he realized that he'd been flirting with Bittle via chirping all year. How had it taken him so long to figure out his feelings?

He didn't tune back in to another of Richie's streams for a while after that one. It felt strange, suddenly—watching this guy who wasn't Bittle, but who he imagined was Bittle, now knowing _why_ he wanted it to be Bittle. But a couple of weeks into the new semester, he found himself lying in bed, horny, and it was late and it wasn't like being in love with Bittle was making Jack fantasize about him _less_. So Jack gave in to temptation.

Then it happened—for the first time, Richie slipped up and his phone was visible for just a second.

The case on the phone was red and white and looked _very familiar_.

—

"But, y'know, lots of people probably have red and white striped phone cases, right?" he asks Janet, even though he knows now that it wasn't a coincidence at all. "Lots of schools have those colors, they probably sell cases just like the ones you can get for Samwell. It freaked me out, but like, I didn't _really_ think this guy was Bittle."

"Sure," Janet says. "I can see why that would shake you a little, but that kind of thinking could get unhealthy quickly."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Jack says with a sigh. "I managed to tell myself that for about two days."

—

He'd closed out of the stream right after the phone thing. Then he'd felt stupid about it the next day, when he felt awkward around Bittle and realized it was because he was thinking _but what if_. What if nothing—it was a stupid coincidence and he needed to put it out of his mind.

So a few days later, when Richie had another stream he made himself watch just to prove to himself how much this guy was _totally not Eric Bittle_.

That went well until someone in the chat asked Richie to use his large purple dildo.

 _Not tonight honey,_ Richie had replied. _I've got a game tomorrow, I don't like to put anything bigger than a finger in there before a game so I don't risk hurting myself._

Jack frowned.

Several chatters wished Richie good luck with the game.

_Aw, thanks, y'all! I scored last weekend, so hopefully—_

Jack slammed his laptop shut, his breath coming too fast. They had a game the next day, and Bittle had scored a sweet goal last weekend. It was all coincidence, though, it was _all_ a _huge coincidence…_

And he was going to prove it, because Bittle was right across the hall and definitely not recording himself masturbating. At all.

Jack went out into the hall and stopped. Half his brain told him that this was stupid and he doesn't need to _check_ because _obviously it's not Bittle_ while the other half was freaking out about how fucking awkward it would if it _was_ Bittle and Jack _interrupted that_ and finally he realized that both halves of his brain were trying desperately to avoid checking which meant he should probably just do it.

He stepped up to Bittle's door. All he could hear from inside was Beyonce, which was pretty normal. No wonder Bittle kept the sound off— _but it wasn't Bittle on the streams, so the music playing had nothing to do with that._

But the music would hide any lube-related sounds pretty well. _If_ Bittle were doing _anything_ , which could include just masturbating on his own like everyone in the Haus did all the time.

Maybe Bittle was in there doing that. Maybe he was watching porn, too. Jack probably shouldn't interrupt him, just in case.

Jack stood there for a full minute, as one song changed to the next. If Shitty came out of his room, or Ransom or Holster came down the stairs, they were going to wonder why he was standing there outside of Bittle's closed door.

He knocked.

"Yes?" Bittle called from inside. But… didn't come to the door.

Shit. Jack hadn't thought of a cover for why he was knocking.

"Uh… I was… gonna go for a run. You want to come?"

"Jack Zimmermann, it is nearly midnight and I am _this close_ to finishing this stupid reaction paper for class tomorrow. If you want to be a crazy person and run in the middle of the night in _January_ you go on ahead but let me be."

Jack stared at the still-closed door.

Wouldn't Bittle normally come to the door to tell him off like that? Why wouldn't Bittle open the door?

Because he was focused on his paper, of course. It was hard for Bittle to get focused on anything, and on the rare occasion he did manage to get in the zone (or somewhere in the general vicinity of the zone) with his schoolwork, he was always grumpy when he got interrupted.

That was all.

Jack went back to his room and lay down on his bed to stare at the ceiling for a while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm impatient, so you get two chapters in one night! This chapter is the shortest in the whole fic and also the only one that contains no smut, so that balances it out. The next chapter is the longest in the fic, so it will definitely take me longer to do my usual multiple proofreading passes before posting it.

"And when was that?" Janet asks.

"Uh, Thursday night." It's Monday now. "And I can't deal with this anymore. The only time I've been fine for the past three days is when I'm on the ice. Then I can put it all out of my mind, but other than that—I can barely look at Bittle, let alone talk to him, and I think he thinks I'm mad at him or something. I'm almost glad we lost on Friday so I had an excuse to sulk and avoid everyone on Saturday, but by Sunday Shitty was trying to get me to socialize and I just _couldn't_. I watched a movie with people in the living room but I was freaking out the whole time. I have no idea what to do or what to say to him without freaking _him_ out, and I can't talk to Shitty or Lardo about it because I don't want to out him—"

"Wait, wait, you still don't know for sure that Bittle is the camboy," Janet points out. "Let's not jump to conclusions."

"Oh, right, there's one more thing," Jack says with a sigh. "I… On Friday, in the locker room, I… I looked. At him. Which I never do. I mean, some guys strut around naked and you can't avoid their ass or their junk. But the guys who keep a towel around them most of the time, I don't look when they're showering or dressing. And Bittle isn't _shy_ in the locker room, but he's probably the most modest person on the team, so I definitely have never done more than like accidentally glance at him while he's naked. I feel guilty for looking, but it was just for a couple seconds and—anyhow. He's got a mole. On his bottom." He looks at her, grimacing. "It's definitely him."

Janet lays her notepad in her lap and sits back in her chair a little, digesting this. "Wow," she finally says. "I am honestly impressed. I've been a licensed therapist for over twenty years, and this… this is a new one." 

Jack laughs. He knows it's an absurd situation, and having a chance to laugh at it feels good. "I'm a boring person for everyone but therapists, I think."

Janet smiles at him. "You know you have plenty of friends who don't find you boring at all. But… yes. This is an awkward and unique situation. So what do you want, Jack?"

He raises his eyebrows. "What do I want?"

"You know a secret about your friend. A very personal secret that he didn't intend to share with you. There are a few ways you could proceed, and which one you take mostly depends on what your ideal outcome for this situation is."

Jack breathes.

"I mean, my _ideal_ outcome? Like in some fantasy world? Would be Bittle and I dating. But I don't know if anything he said about me in those chats was true, or if I was just a convenient hot guy for him to create a fantasy around for his audience. Maybe he doesn't feel that way about me at all. And how do I even approach that topic without admitting I saw the chats, and how do I tell him I saw the chats and the streams without freaking him out so he won't even talk to me—"

"One thing at a time," Janet says, and Jack takes another breath. "Good. Jack, you have improved so much at calming yourself down over the past few years. I know you still have panic attacks, but I just want to point out that at times like this I can really see all the progress you've made. You should be proud."

Jack nods. He can't help smiling a little, because he is kind of proud of himself. It's a small miracle that he hasn't been hyperventilating for the past forty-eight hours straight.

"So your ideal outcome is a romantic relationship. Do you feel ready for a relationship with a man right now?"

Jack hesitates. "I mean, it couldn't be very public, so he might not want that—"

"We're talking about what _you_ want," Janet reminds him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm ready for that. Or. I'm ready for a relationship with _him_. I want that. A lot. More than I want to play it safe and only date women right now." Jack looks down at his hands. "I've never felt this way about anyone. I know it's a risk, but he's worth it."

"Okay," Janet says softly. "I'm proud of you for that, too. When I met you, I'm not sure you would have thought anything or anyone was worth taking any kind of risk with your hockey for. It's a testament not only to you, but to the friends you've made at Samwell, that you're willing to put people before hockey even a little."

Jack nods. "Yeah. It's mostly Shitty's fault."

Janet smiles. "I'm aware. Okay, so you have feelings for Bittle and you have reason to think he might have feelings for you. But you know this secret, and you can't start a relationship keeping _that_ fact a secret from _him_." 

Jack shakes his head. That would be a disaster. "But," he adds, "if I try to tell him I know about the streams, he's going to freak out and avoid me and refuse to talk to me and I'll never get a chance to find out about the rest of it."

"He will definitely need time and space to process the fact that you know those kinds of intimate details," Janet says, nodding. "Things he probably never wanted any of his friends, including you, maybe especially you, to know."

"Plus, the stuff he said in chat might all be lies," Jack adds. "If I go in assuming he wants to date me I'll only make things worse."

"You were right before, when you said I don't generally like giving you direct life advice. But I think in this case I can at least help you brainstorm a few ideas for how to proceed, and hopefully we can help you figure out which one is best for you."

—

Jack knocks on Bittle's door. It's closed, and there's music playing, but Jack checked and there's no stream tonight, so Bittle is probably just doing homework. Or reading Twitter.

This time, Bittle does open the door.

"What's up?"

Jack takes a deep breath and remembers Janet's encouragement. She'd agreed that this is the best way to approach things. It lets Jack get everything out in the open, lets Bitty process it all at his own speed and on his own time, and lets him respond in any way he wants to, including pretending like none of this ever happened.

This is a good idea.

Because Jack can't go on feeling like he has the past few days.

"Jack?" Bitty looks worried. "Are you okay? I feel like you've been avoiding me, did I—"

Jack holds out the letter.

"I need you to read this," he says, but doesn't let go yet when Bittle puts his hand on the letter. "All of it. Okay? The first part is going to freak you out, and I'm sorry, but please read the _whole thing._ If you stop when you get freaked out, it'll be a mess."

"Jack what _is it?"_ Bittle looks alarmed now as he jerks the letter out of Jack's hand. "What's going on?"

Bittle starts to open the letter, but Jack puts a hand on his to stop him. "Not—just—let me leave first, okay? Don't read it in front of me."

Jack didn't realize that Bitty's large brown eyes could get even wider. He hates that he's causing him this kind of panic. Jack pulls his hand back and retreats to his room, closing his door behind him and leaning on it heavily.

Well, he did it. In a minute or two, Bitty will know everything, and he'll know that Jack knows everything, and whatever is going to happen because of that will happen.

He hears a horrified gasp from across the hall, then Bitty's door slams. Jack crosses his room to sit on his bed. He doesn't want to know what Bitty's reaction is until Bitty really has read the whole thing and has had time to process it and decide how _he_ wants to proceed.

Waiting for that is going to be hell. Jack looks down at the wastepaper basket next to his desk, where there are at least five crumpled drafts of the letter. He should probably… shred them or something.

—

_Bitty,_

_Just in case I forget to say this when I give you this letter: Please read this whole thing. You're not going to like what I say next, and I'm really sorry, but please keep reading._

_I know you didn't know this, but I like guys. I'm bi. And I watch gay porn sometimes. Camboys. I started watching one this summer, and I realized a few days ago that it's you._

_First: I promise I had no idea until this past week. I haven't been hiding this from you all year. I've just been trying to figure out how to talk to you about it for the past couple of days. I haven't watched any streams since I figured it out. I don't even know if you've done any._

_Second: I'm absolutely not going to tell anyone. It's your business, and there's nothing wrong with it at all, but obviously I get why you've kept it a secret._

_If you want, we can pretend this never happened. I just didn't want to lie to you and pretend I didn't know. Just text me and tell me you don't want to talk about it and I'll never bring it up again, I'll never go near your channel again. Things will be awkward for a day or two and then we'll get over it._

_But there are other things I wanted to say to you, too. That I've wanted to say for a while now but didn't know how. And I think I need to say them now or things will get even more awkward and confusing._

_So, third: I don't know if any of the things you said about me in the chat are true. I realize that you probably made a lot of stuff up just because you knew your audience would be into that. But, just in case any of it was true, I want you to know that I feel the same way about you. If you want, I'd really like to talk to you about that. About us. And you should know that this—my feelings, any relationship we might have—that's all totally separate from the livestream stuff. I'm only bringing it up in the same letter because I can't pretend like I didn't read the things you said about me._

_If you're not actually interested in me like that, like I said, we can pretend this never happened. I won't push, I won't pursue you. I want you to be happy, whether or not it's with me. Things will be awkward for a little while, but we'll both get over it. Just say (or text) the word and we'll never talk about it again. Or, if you want to talk about it just to clear the air, that's fine, too. Whatever you want, just let me know._

_But if any of it was true, and you do have feelings for me, please come talk to me. I don't want this—me figuring out your secret—to get in the way of anything we could have together. I know it's embarrassing, but we can get past that._

_Take as long as you need to to figure out what you want to do. If you need more than tonight, I'll do my best to pretend everything is normal until you're ready._

_Love,_

_Jack_


	3. Chapter 3

Jack tries to keep his mind off of it. He watches some NHL highlights, especially the Falconers. He's been talking to Georgia Martin a lot. He knows his dad wants him to go with a more established team, but… he just _likes_ the Falconers so much. He likes George, he likes Sebastien St Martin, whom they seem to have given the job of recruiting him. Marty's been texting him for a couple of weeks now, and he seems like someone Jack could be friends with. He's invited Jack to come down to Providence for dinner, and it highlights how _close_ Providence is to Samwell. Which is also nice.

But thinking about why that might be nice brings his mind back around to Bitty, who's been silent for a half hour now. Jack can't really use hockey to get his mind off of someone who is inextricably linked to hockey in his mind.

He turns to figuring out what homework he needs to do. Of course, at the top of his list is reading for the food class that he's taking with Bittle. And half the rest of the team, but _with Bittle_ is the issue right now. He skips that and starts sorting through some photos he's taken for this week's photography project.

Damn, he takes a lot of photos of Bittle.

He could go be social. Shitty is holed up in the library perfecting his personal statement for law school, but Jack could easily go downstairs and watch whatever sitcom Ransom and Holster are bingeing. But he wants to be alone when Bitty responds.

He manages to read a few pages of a book he checked out of the library for his thesis before his phone buzzes with a text.

**Bittle:** I regret to inform you that Eric Bittle has died of utter humiliation.

Jack smiles a little. It doesn't say _let us never speak of this again_ , so that's a start.

**Jack:** I'm sorry. I know it's embarrassing. But I had to tell you.

**Bittle:** I know.  
Lord, I'm glad you didn't just let me go on doing shows with you right across the hall knowing exactly what was happening.  
What I mean is, thanks for telling me.  
I know it's embarrassing for you, too.

**Jack:** A little. Yeah.

His phone is quiet for a minute, just enough for Jack to get worried, and then to his surprise, it rings.

"Bits? Are you calling me from across the hall?"

Bitty laughs. "Hush, you, I can't look you in the eye yet. …And you never call me that."

Jack hesitates. Bitty's tone is soft, but Jack is also sometimes not the best at reading tone. "Sorry. I don't have to—"

"No! You ridiculous boy, it's fine. I like it. Anyhow." He hears Bitty take a deep breath, then let it out. "So, um. I guess—I guess there's not a lot to say about the shows. I mean, you've seen 'em apparently, you know what I do. I appreciate you not tellin' anyone."

"Of course."

"I guess what I really need to tell you is, um. Yeah. I—I wasn't makin' things up, in the chat. I mean, a little, sometimes, yeah, but not… not when I was talking about you. How I… feel about you." Bitty's voice fades away, unsure.

"Oh," is all Jack can think to reply. "Okay. Good."

Bitty laughs, and it sounds like a pressure valve has been released in him. "Oh my God, Jack, 'okay good?' That's all you're gonna say?" He doesn't stop laughing, and Jack can hear it through his door, not just his phone. 

But then Bitty drops his voice so it won't carry through the door. "I just confessed to you that I've been telling a chat room full of people watching me get off, _including you,_ how crazy I am about you and all my fantasies about you and all you've got for me is 'okay good?'"

"I love you." 

That's better than "okay, good," right? A lot better.

Bitty lets out a long, weary sigh, and Jack hears some shuffling over the phone. Then he hears Bitty's door open both on the phone and in the hall, and then there's a knock at his door.

Jack opens his door, phone still to his ear. Bitty is standing there with his phone, still, too. His face is a little red and blotchy, but it looks like he stopped crying a while ago. Though now there are new tears shining in his eyes, but Jack thinks (hopes) maybe they're not bad tears.

Bitty throws himself at Jack, flinging his arms around Jack's neck with enough force that Jack drops his phone in his rush to catch him. Bitty buries his face in Jack's neck and they just stand there like that for a minute, clinging to each other.

This has to be good. This seems like it's heading toward the ideal outcome. Jack's heart stops pounding for the first time since he handed Bitty the letter.

Bitty finally pulls back, and Jack reaches past him to shut the door. Bitty is wiping at his eyes a little, looking at his feet.

"Okay, I still can't look at you while I talk about this. I'll get there, I swear," Bitty says to Jack's feet. "But I gotta ask… You—this is all—you feel all that for _me_ , right? For the flaky kid who sings too loud in the shower and can't get his homework done or take a hit on the ice. Not for… for…" He waves a hand in the general direction of Jack's laptop, managing to look at it but still not up at Jack. "Richie, I guess."

Jack snorts. "My therapist asked the same thing."

Bitty does look up at that. "You told your therapist about this?"

"I spent all weekend panicking, and it's not like I could go to Shitty for advice. This way, it's covered by HIPAA. It'd be illegal for her to tell anyone."

Bitty laughs a little, shaking his head. He runs a hand down his face. "Right."

"And yes, Bits, I'm sure." Jack tips Bitty's chin up and Bitty manages to hold his gaze. "I realized I felt like this about you weeks ago, before I knew that was you. I never… _felt_ anything for the anonymous guy on the screen. I mean. Not anything emotional. Just, um. Physical."

Bitty blushes and rolls his eyes. "Oh, Lord." He buries his face in Jack's chest and Jack wraps his arms around him.

"I guess that is kind of the point," Bitty says, muffled by Jack's shirt. "If you never felt anything physical I wouldn't be doing my job."

Jack isn't sure if he should say what he's thinking. Then again, they shouldn't avoid the topic if they _are_ going to be dating. Which he hopes they are.

"You are very good at your job."

Bitty lets out a pained moan. He pulls back from Jack's shirt but covers his bright pink face with his hands.

"This is so weird," he says into his hands. "Because that should be a good thing, and especially if you like me back then knowing you like _that_ and you like me like _that_ should be a good thing, but it's still embarrassing."

"Let's not talk about it, then," Jack says, pulling one of Bitty's hands away from his face. "We'll need to eventually, but I'd rather talk about us."

Bitty drops both his hands, the one still holding Jack's, and smiles a little. "Us?"

Jack nods. "Can I kiss you?"

Bitty nods, and Jack kisses him.

—

They wind up curled up on Jack's bed, hashing out all the details of what a relationship will entail. They're not going to tell anyone yet; nobody at all until after Jack signs with a team, then maybe they'll think about telling some of their friends or family. Luckily, Bitty has, as he points out, a _very_ good track record with keeping secrets. So they'll have to act like bros in public, or even when other people are in the Haus, but they'll find ways to feel more like boyfriends when they're alone.

They make out for a while, slow and lazy, taking the time to explore each other. They kiss and touch and chirp and figure out what works. Their shirts come off, and Bitty seems to be in favor of their pants coming off too, if the way he's grabbing at Jack's ass is any indication.

But when Jack slides his hand up and past the growing bump in Bitty's jeans, to the button, he pulls back.

"Um." 

Jack pulls his hand away.

"No! No I didn't mean—I don't wanna stop, I just—I wasn't, um. In those chats, I wasn't lying about being a virgin, either. I don't want you goin' into this thinkin' that just 'cause I kinda do sorta porn…" Bitty's accent gets thicker when he's nervous, and it's adorable. "Okay, I mean, it _is_ porn. I don't want you to think just 'cause I make porn by myself means I have any dang clue what I'm doin' with another person. So, like. Low expectations, okay?"

"It's fine." Jack kisses Bitty's throat, and Bitty starts to relax. "I wasn't sure if that was true or not, but okay, it is. We'll go slow and figure out what you like. Just tell me if there's something you don't want to do. Or that you really want to do. But we can stop whenever."

"I wanna do pretty much everything in the book with you," Bitty says, breathless now, his fingers digging into Jack's bicep. "I dunno if _every_ fantasy I talked about in that chat is something I'd wanna do in real life but Lord, a lot of 'em sure are."

Jack moans and rubs himself against Bitty's leg a little. Just thinking about some of the things Bitty's said online has him fully hard.

He slides his hand down again, rubbing over Bitty's erection as they kiss. He moans into Jack's mouth, his hips chasing Jack's hand. Jack unbuttons Bitty's jeans, then Bitty takes over to get them off. Jack takes the opportunity to get out of his own pants—fair is fair, and they were getting very uncomfortable anyhow.

Once they're both down to their underwear and settled back in, kissing each other and exploring these new expanses of bare skin, Bitty's hand slides around from Jack's ass and traces over his dick as it strains against his boxer briefs. Jack has his hand between Bitty's legs, feeling his balls, and as Bitty gives him a firm stroke through his underwear he groans and reaches down further to grab Bitty's ass. His fingers slide into the crack, and even with cloth in the way he can find Bitty's hole to rub against. When he does, Bitty almost cries out, but swallows it down at the last second.

"I wanna suck you off," Jack whispers breathlessly. "I've wanted your dick in my mouth for months, online and in real life. Can I?"

Bitty whimpers a little as he nods, pushing his underwear out of the way hastily. Jack pushes himself down the bed, and comes face-to-face with the cock he's watched so many times. It looks even better in person, and Jack immediately swallows it down as far as he can.

Bitty gasps, his hand going to Jack's hair and tightening. "Oh fuck, Jack, yes, that's—oh, sweetheart."

Jack bobs his head a few times, sucking hard, until Bitty's balls start to tighten. He pulls off, even though Bitty makes a disappointed sound, to go lick at those balls.

"Can I mark you?" He asks, his voice low and rough. "So they can see?"

"What?" Bitty is too blissed out to follow. "Who?"

"I want to leave some marks down here," Jack says, "where the guys probably won't notice in the locker room, but next time you do a video they'll all know."

Bitty pushes up on one elbow, frowning. "Wait. You want me to keep doing the shows?"

Jack picks his head up, surprised. "Only if you want! You don't have to. But, I mean… I don't want you to stop for _me_. You're not having sex with other people or anything." He smirks. "Maybe you could have a live studio audience next time." Bitty laughs and falls back down onto the pillow. His hand falls away from Jack's hair for a moment, but it's back before Jack can complain. Jack nips at the soft skin where Bitty's leg meets his pelvis, and Bitty twitches. "If I mark you up, they'll all see it. And they'll know that they might get to watch you, but they're not the ones who get to do that."

Bitty moans a little and moves his hips, which makes the tip of his cock rub against Jack's face.

"A little possessive, are we?" 

"Maybe a little," Jack admits. "But it goes both ways. I like that they'll know I'm yours, even if they don't know who I am. That you let me do that, and no one else."

Bitty sits up a little again, then tightens the hand in Jack's hair. There's a glint in his eye that makes Jack want to rub himself against the mattress.

"Oh, you are definitely all mine now," Bitty says. Jack nods a little, dazed. Bitty's grip tightens a little more, and his eyes fall closed, rolling back a little as he focuses on the sensation. "And you can feel free to leave all the marks you please to show all those guys watching me and jacking off at home that you're mine and they never will be." Jack moans. He tries to nod again, but Bitty's hand is holding his hair so tight now that he can barely move his head. It's _amazing_. "You like how that feels, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," Jack rasps, since he can't nod. "Yes."

"Good to know," Bitty says, "I wanna know all the best ways to make you feel good." Jack's hips are twitching against the mattress, but his brain is focused on Bitty's hand, pulling harder and harder. When he lets go, Jack only has a second to feel disappointed before Bitty smooths the hair down gently and asks in a firm voice, "Now I think you were about to mark me up and suck me off, weren't you?"

Jack gets immediately to work, sucking three hickeys into Bitty's inner thighs and the skin around the base of his cock. _Doesn't have any dang clue what he's doing with another person, my ass_. Bitty may technically be a virgin, but he is very good at reading other people in a way Jack is not, and he's clearly honed his skill at using that to command sexual attention. Jack thinks about some of the livestreams while he sucks Bitty back down. The men in the chat clearly want Bitty to be this innocent, submissive bottom. Bitty gives them that, but it's all a manipulation to make them want him more. He knows exactly what he's doing.

Jesus Christ, Jack really is dating a porn star.

A porn star with a fairly thick cock that is, in fact, made for gagging on, he quickly decides. He takes it as deep as he can, working the head in to the back of his throat and swallowing around it. Bitty makes a sound when he does that, but it's quickly muffled as it sounds like he's slapped his hand over his mouth. His other hand is back in Jack's hair, tight but not enough to restrict his movement. Jack tries to moan but he can't, not with his throat occupied like this, and he thinks if he tries again he might actually gag too hard.

He eventually has to pull off to take a few gasping breaths, wiping drool off his mouth (he half hopes Bitty doesn't notice that and half doubts that Bitty cares right now).

"Oh my God, honey, that feels incredible, but you don't have to do it if it's uncomfortable," Bitty says above him, panting.

Jack shakes his head, taking another breath. "I like it," he insists.

Bitty looks down at him, traces a finger over lips that must be red and puffy from being stretched and rubbed so much. "Well, don't let me stop you then, I guess."

Jack grins, then goes back down. He swallows around Bitty a few more times, fondling his balls until they start to tighten up again.

"Oh gosh," Bitty says, and Jack is stupidly in love with a porn star who says _oh gosh_ while his dick is halfway down Jack's throat. "Oh, I'm close, I'm—"

Jack sucks hard, and when Bitty comes it's so far back in his throat that he can hardly taste it.

He pulls off, panting, and after wiping his mouth again looks up at Bitty. Bitty is clearly coming down from his orgasm, an arm thrown over his eyes, chest heaving. It's one of the hottest things Jack's ever seen, not least because he's right there where Jack can touch him and not on a computer screen.

He pulls his own cock out of his underwear as he crawls up the bed. He's so fucking horny at this point that he's not sure he can wait for Bittle to recover, and starts stroking himself.

"Oh no," Bittle says, reaching down to wrap a hand around him. "I don't know if I should try a blow job my first time out, but no way do you get all the fun."

"It won't take much," Jack admits as Bittle starts to pull on him with firm, confident strokes. " _Fuck_ ," he breathes. He gets one hand under Bittle's ass, which feels every bit as amazing as he's always imagined, and buries his face in Bittle's shoulder. He's coming in no time, and Bitty moans more than he does.

He collapses next to Bitty with an arm thrown around his bare torso, careful not to crush him. 

"I'm a mess," Bitty says with a sigh. Without picking his head up, Jack feels around behind himself for the t-shirt he'd been wearing when they started. When he finds it, he uses it to wipe off Bitty's stomach while Bitty grabs a sleeve and wipes off his hand and arm. Jack pulls a sheet over them once they're wiped off, and soon they're cuddling and nuzzling and kissing and generally reveling in post-coital bliss.

They never quite doze off, though it's close. Their kisses turn to murmured sweet nothings, then to an actual conversation which eventually makes its way back to Bittle's show.

"How did you decide to start doing that, anyhow?"

Bittle sighs. "Two parts boredom, one part horniness, one part being tired of making minimum wage at the same day camp I've been working at since I was fifteen. I already had a decent camera and tripod and all for my vlog, and I like being in front of the camera well enough, so I was poking around wondering if there was any way to actually make money from it. The first thing I found was doing product reviews, but it sounds like the pay is really hit-or-miss. Then one night I was looking through porn and I realized how much of it is really just guys jerking off, and I looked into how to get it all set up on the internet and all. I still wasn't sure I had the guts to go through with it, but like a week later it was late and I was in bed and reached into my pants and I was just like, huh, maybe I should turn on the camera." He shrugs.

"Sounds glamorous," Jack says with a smirk.

Bitty snorts. "When did you start watching?"

"I was in Chicago, so… mid-July?"

"Huh. I think I probably woulda done a couple by then, but not many. Was I in the chat yet?"

"Not the first time," Jack tells him. "You just got yourself off and that was it."

Bitty nods against Jack's chest. "Yeah, the first few were just that. Didn't really know what else to do. But a few people watched every time, so I kept goin'."

"I mostly just thought you had a really nice cock that time," Jack remembers. "That I wanted to get my mouth on it. It definitely lived up to the hype, by the way." Bitty snorts again. "Then the next time I watched, you turned around so we could see your ass, and then I was hooked."

Bitty hums. "That all I did?"

"That time, yeah," Jack says. "Someone in the chat asked you to."

"Once I started talking on the chat more I started gettin' _way_ more viewers," Bitty says. "They really like thinking they're bossin' the skinny little virgin twink around."

"I think you've figured this out," Jack says, dipping his head down to nuzzle behind Bitty's ear, "but I'm not exactly into bossing anyone around. I was mostly there for your ass. Which I also thought was incredible in real life, by the way." He slides a hand down to grab at said ass. He thinks he might be able to get it up again soon. "Since school started the main reason I was watching you online was because I could imagine you were… you."

"Seriously?" Bitty asks, laughing. "You've been thinking about me—like, me-me, not online me—like _that_ since August?"

"Why do you sound so shocked? You left Samwell cute and came back ridiculously hot. I didn't realize I had more feelings than that 'til Christmas break, though."

Bitty nudges at him until they're eye-to-eye. He looks suddenly serious. "Christmas break is when _I_ was talking about my feelings about _you_. In the chat. Did you see that? I'm sorry, this is so stupid, but half of me is convinced this can't be real, so it's real easy to worry that your feelings for me are all tangled up with _whatever_ with… Richie."

"Bits." Jack strokes his hair. "You'd been talking about me, about fantasies and stuff, for a while by then." Bitty nods. "I was imagining that the guy on the screen was you, and he happened to be talking about a guy who looks like me, so that just made it easier to, like, insert the two of us into whatever scenario you talked about. So when you talked about being in love with him—with me—" He sighs. "When _Richie_ talked about being in love with _him_ , my brain automatically inserted you and me in there and I realized, holy shit, I _really_ want that. Like, more than I want any of the sex fantasies with you."

"That's weirdly sweet," Bitty says with a crooked smile.

"By the way, when you kicked that douchebag out of the chat? Super hot." Bitty's smile turns smug. That's pretty hot, too. "You just let them think they're telling you what to do, aren't you? Is that why you enjoy it, because you're really the one in charge?"

Bitty hums, stretching a little and still looking smug. "I mean, turns out I kinda like the exhibitionist thing in and of itself. It makes me feel… I dunno. Powerful, I guess, to see I've got twenty guys or more who are paying for the privilege of staring at me? While I do something that feels good to me and not them? I know a lot of 'em like to think of me as the innocent twink, and I play that up for 'em, but I know full well I'm the one who's got 'em all eating out of _my_ hand. So yeah, exactly, I let 'em think they're telling me what to do, but the truth is I always get a bunch of requests and I can just pick what I feel like doing. And if I don't like any of 'em, they hardly even notice if I do something that's not quite what they asked for. They're the ones who'll take whatever I want to give 'em and be happy with it, not the other way around."

Okay, yeah, Jack is definitely getting turned on again. "Fuck," he mutters, and starts nipping at Bitty's neck while he runs a hand down those gorgeous abs.

"You do like that, don't you?" Bitty says, breathless. He stops Jack's hand as it reaches his inner thighs. "Hold up one second. We should talk about that, too, right? Like, is this really a thing? That you wanna do? Me bossing you around, pulling your hair, all that?"

Jack nods where his head is tucked between Bitty's neck and shoulder, then picks his head up to look at him. "I think so, yeah. I've never… Not, like… explicitly…" He sighs and takes a second to collect his words. If Bitty can talk to him so openly about people watching him masturbate for money, Jack can use big boy words for this. "I've never done anything that was like… real BDSM. I don't know, I guess Camilla and Kent were both kind of bossy, and… and I liked it. But we never talked about it. We never, uh. Had a safeword. Or did, like, bondage. Or. Whatever. I… don't really know what people do." He feels less horny and more ridiculous by the time he's done.

But Bitty just runs his hand up Jack's side, up over his chest and to his face, then leans up and kisses him. Jack sinks into the kiss, and it's amazing how quickly the feel of their bodies together makes his awkwardness melt away. Bitty hitches one leg up around his hips and Jack is getting hard again immediately.

Bittle pulls back from the kiss just a little. "But you've thought about that stuff?" His voice is low and husky, and Jack knows the right answer to that.

"Yeah," he pants. He kisses Bittle again and again. "With you," he manages between kisses. "Wanna be yours."

"Mine," Bittle says, and he digs his nails into Jack's biceps. Hard. Jack groans and kisses him harder.

"Shit," he mutters into Bittle's mouth, "everything I really want you to do would leave marks."

Bitty sucks in a breath. Jack looks down to find him staring, eyes wide and intense. "We'll talk about all that later. For now, if I do anything you don't want me to do, you promise you'll say stop? And I'll stop right then and there."

"Yeah," Jack says, "I promise."

Bitty pushes on Jack's shoulder, and he rolls over willingly. Within seconds, Bitty is straddling his waist. He takes in the view—Bitty's hard again, too, and Jack drags his eyes up from his cock, across miles of college-athlete-level toned muscles, up to his face. Bitty is smirking a little, apparently well-aware of Jack's appreciation and, of course, not one to discourage staring.

Then Bitty slowly grabs Jack's wrists and pulls them up over Jack's head. Jack's breath is suddenly shaky; he's shocked by how badly he wants this.

"We'll talk about the more serious stuff later," Bitty says, pressing Jack's wrists into the bed where he's crossed them together. His words come out slow and measured, honey pouring out of his mouth and flowing down over Jack's skin. "And we shouldn't do anything like tying anyone down, or really hurtin' anyone, until we do. But I know you're gonna be good for me and keep your hands right there, no matter what I do, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Jack breathes. He locks one hand around the other wrist and Bittle sits back to look at him.

"Perfect." He reaches down and starts to stroke himself. "God, Jack, you're more perfect than I ever imagined. You wanna hear what I've imagined?"

Jack nods, but Bittle just raises an eyebrow.

"What was that?"

"Yes, please," Jack says. His throat is tight, but the words feel soft in his mouth, slurring a tiny bit.

Bittle hums in pleasure as he threads the fingers of one hand into Jack's hair. 

"Oh, I _like_ hearing you say please. So, in the chats, I'm usually talking about you coming in unexpectedly and fucking me in front of the camera, or doing all sorts of other things to me in front of the camera. And don't get me wrong, those all sound great. But my favorite fantasy is one I don't think the boys in the chat would really get into." 

As Bittle is saying all this, his hand is tightening in Jack's hair, but it's not enough to hurt yet. His other hand is still stroking his own dick slowly, with a light touch. Said dick is still somewhere down around Jack's chest, too far away for Jack to reach it with his mouth without moving his hands. Which he is not going to do.

"What I really like to think about is you coming in, hard and ready because you'd been watching me in your room. And I keep doing whatever I was doing—maybe just touching myself like this, maybe fingering myself for the camera. You'd stop in the middle of my room, not sure what to do, because I know that's what you'd do, Jack. And I'd tell you you're welcome to stay, so long as you take your clothes off. So then you'd be standing there, stark naked, hard as a rock, but when you try to get on the bed with me you know what I'd say?" He tightens his hand a little more, and now it hurts, not _so_ much yet but enough to make Jack moan. Bittle's voice has a hard edge to it when he continues. "I'd say excuse me, but I'm working right now, and it's awfully rude of you to interrupt. If you want to watch, you can kneel on the floor right there in front of my bed, and you can watch all you want, but you damn well better not touch yourself. So there you'd be, kneeling all pretty for me, maybe your hands behind your back so you're not tempted to touch your cock. God, I bet you wanna touch it now, don't you?"

Jack whines in response, moving his hips minutely even though he knows he can't reach any part of Bitty's body right now. His cock shifts uselessly, nothing but air moving against it. He's never been this hard for this long before without any friction. It might start to hurt soon—he wonders if he'll like that.

"Ah ah ah, you stay still," Bittle says, and then jerks Jack's head back by his hair. He keeps his mouth clamped shut but the noise that comes out is still loud enough that it's a very good thing that Shitty is at the library all night. Jack's breathing is turning into shallow panting, and he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a second. He's not quite overwhelmed, but everything is more intense than he'd expected.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Bitty asks, his voice a little softer and less commanding. "You want me to let go?"

"No!" Jack opens his eyes. "This is so good."

Bitty hums again, a smug, satisfied sound. He looms over Jack, and now the tip of his cock is near Jack's exposed throat. It brushes him there now and then as Bitty strokes himself a little harder.

"You'd be so good, Jack, sitting right there for me, watching me do my job for all those other men. But you'd be the only one who gets to see all of me. You'd be so good that at the end, I'd come over to the edge of the bed and you know what I'd do for you? After all that waiting, all that watching me and wanting me, I'd let you have my come all over your face." 

Bitty's voice loses a little of its measured control as his hand moves faster, harder. The pressure in Jack's dick is just on this side of unbearable, the pain in his scalp the only thing distracting him from it. "God, you'd look so gorgeous, Jack, kneeling there, covered in my come. And then I'd finally let you touch yourself. I'd let you get yourself off while I put my equipment away and got dressed. That's your reward for being so good, Jack, you get to get yourself off in my room, with my come dripping off your face."

Jack lets out a sound that's half-moan, half-whimper. Bitty pulls his head back just a touch farther.

"Can I do that, baby? Can I come all over your face?"

"Yes," Jack manages to get out. Not moving his hips is torture. "Fuck, please, yes, _crisse_ , _yes._ "

Then that thick, delicious cock is in front of his face, Bitty pumping himself but also moving his hips a bit to fuck into this hand.

"Jack," he says after only a few seconds. His voice is broken and desperate, not at all the commanding tone of just a minute or two ago. "I'm—oh God, Jack. _Jack_."

Warm, sticky fluid covers Jack's cheeks, his chin, his lips. Bittle keeps saying his name as another wave hits his forehead and hair, just missing his eyes. Jack is moaning through the whole thing, reveling in the new sensations. He licks some off his lips, just in time to catch the last of it on his tongue.

"Oh my God." Bittle loosens his grip on Jack's hair but doesn't let go entirely. He's still looming over Jack, panting hard. "Oh, sweetheart, that was—look at you."

Bittle stares for just a second too long, and Jack starts to feel self-conscious. He must look ridiculous with come all over his face, still holding his hands above his head and hard as a rock down below. But Bittle isn't staring at him like he looks ridiculous, and when Bittle bends down and starts licking the come off his jaw Jack moans again, head instantly back in the game.

"Bits, please," he manages to get out, "please, can I touch myself? God, fuck…"

Bittle doesn't say anything, just gives him a few more licks to clean some of the come off his cheek. It's not lost on Jack that he's really just replacing one bodily fluid with another, mixing them. He's not erasing his claim on Jack; if anything, he's strengthening it.

Then Bittle pulls back and starts to move slowly down Jack's body.

"Oh, honey, you were so perfect," he purrs as he goes. Now and then, he bends down to graze his teeth over Jack's skin, making him shiver. "That was incredible. Look at you, still not moving, still perfect for me. You deserve to feel good, and I'm not gonna make you do it yourself. This time."

He arrives at his destination, nudging Jack's knees apart and settling between them. He's managed to get down there without so much as brushing the edge of Jack's cock. When his hand wraps around it, Jack lets out a sound of relief. A simple handjob has never felt this good, this intense, and he knows he's going to come within a minute or two. Then, to his surprise, Bitty bends his head down and licks at his slit, then takes the entire head into this mouth.

"Oh fuck," Jack grits out. With Bitty's wet mouth sucking hard and working him over with his tongue, the best sex Jack's ever had just somehow got even better. Jack doesn't want it to end, but he knows he can't last more than a few more seconds. Bitty doesn't take any more than the head into his mouth, but is pumping his shaft in time with the movement of his tongue with one hand and rolling Jack's balls around with the other, and Jack somehow manages to hold off for nearly ten whole seconds before he can feel the wave about to crash down onto him.

"FuckI'mgonna—" He hopes that was enough warning if Bitty didn't want him to come in his mouth, because after that he's totally incoherent. Bitty keeps sucking him through the orgasm, keeps his hands working, and Jack didn't know he could come for this long, period, let alone when he already came once tonight.

The wave finally recedes, leaving him oversensitive. He wiggles his hips away a little and is about to tap Bitty on the head but, in his post-orgasmic haze, realizes he's still not allowed to move his hands.

"Stop," he says. It sounds messy. "'S too much."

Bitty pulls off as soon as he says the word _stop_ , and before Jack's gotten the rest out Bitty is almost all the way back up the bed. Bitty curls into Jack's side, wrapping himself around him, then reaches up and tugs on one bicep.

"You can move now, sugar. We're done. I'm not tellin' you what to do anymore."

Jack moves his arms down to wrap them around Bitty. It feels a little strange, after keeping them still for so long, fighting against the instinct to move them. They're not quite stiff, but not… not stiff.

His head is still floating, coming down from a high that's beyond his usual post-orgasmic fog.

"Oh—oh, goodness." Bitty is pulling himself out of Jack's arms, and Jack doesn't like it but doesn't really have the strength to do anything about it. "Where are your washcloths, sweetheart?"

"Mm?" Jack frowns, and the movement reminds him that his face is currently very sticky. "Oh. Um, top drawer in my dresser."

Jack closes his eyes and relaxes, knowing that Bitty will come back to bed soon. He does, with the washcloth, now warm and wet. He cleans off Jack's face carefully, then pats it dry with a dry cloth, chattering quietly the whole time.

"This is the least I can do; you know I half can't believe you let me do that, my goodness. Y'know, the only problem with it is that by the time it's on your face, I've already come, because dear Lord that's just about the hottest thing I have seen in my entire life. Including in porn, even porn where a guy comes on someone's face, because—well, it's you, right? I think everything will always be hotter when it's you."

He's just about done cleaning Jack up by then, so Jack pulls him back down into his arms. Bitty yelps a little but goes down without a fight, tossing the washcloths over the side of the bed as he does. Jack isn't even sure if he wants to hold Bitty or be held by him more, but given the size difference holding him is a little easier with his current reduced brain capacity, so that's what he does. He wraps himself around Bitty as much as he can, burrowing his face into soft blonde hair. Bitty squirms a little to get comfortable, then hums happily.

Jack is happy to just float there for a few minutes, riding his cloud of endorphins. "Jesus," he says once his head has cleared enough to string together a sentence. "Good thing I went into that with low expectations, eh? Or I might've only thought it was the second-best sex I've had in my life."

Bittle shakes a little against his chest with laughter. "I don't think your first time is allowed to be that good. Isn't it supposed to be awkward and like, over too quick and probably with a sorta perfunctory orgasm that's perfectly fine but nothing mindblowing?"

"That's, yeah, I think you described my first time, yeah," Jack says, laughing a little. "Anyhow, technically that was your second time."

Bittle sighs. "I guess dot jpeg," he says, sounding put-upon.

Jack looks down at him, his face contorting in utter confusion. "I have absolutely no idea what the hell that's supposed to mean."

Bitty strokes his cheek, smiling. "I know, sweetheart. I'll send you the meme tomorrow."

Jack looks at him for a moment suspiciously, then shakes his head, letting it go. "Plus, I hate to break it to you, Bits, but I think you've gotten _way_ more experience doing your camshows than you realized. I mean, sure, you were technically still a virgin, but, uh… not really, eh?"

Bitty shrugs. "Maybe. I know doing those has helped me figure out a lot about what I like and all. It's still… different, though."

"I know," Jack says. He kisses Bittle on the forehead and pulls him close again. He's just starting to drift off when Bittle makes a disgruntled noise.

"I guess I shouldn't really sleep here," he says reluctantly. "Too easy for Shitty to wander in. Or for someone to see my walk of shame in the morning."

"I can lock my doors," Jack points out. "And you'll be in the hallway for all of five seconds in the morning. I mean… I guess we shouldn't sleep together that much for now but… Just one night?"

Jack pouts a little, and it pulls a shy smile from Bitty. "One night. But I'm gonna go change into pajamas and brush my teeth so at least I look normal in the morning if anyone sees me in the hall."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you even believe that I went into this fic not expecting it to be D/s? _Me???_ Hahahahahahaha that'll show me.
> 
> If you're the type of fic reader who goes "oh no, they're together but we're only 2/3 of the way through, what angst is going to befall me?" I feel comfortable spoiling you for the fact that there is _zero_ further angst in this fic. It's literally all just smut from here on out, other than one brief therapist scene.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack is sitting in Bittle's office chair, his laptop open on the desk. He's only sort of facing it, though; he's mostly facing the bed, where Bittle is setting up his laptop and camera.

Bitty hasn't done any more shows in the couple of weeks they've been dating. They've both wanted to spend every moment they can spare together, whether they're having sex or talking or just cuddling while they watch a movie. They have to be careful—too much time alone together might make the other guys in the Haus suspicious, or at least curious. But they find quite a few stolen moments late at night, when the others have retreated to their rooms, or at times of day when they know everyone else is in class. 

It's better not to sleep together every night, as much as they want to. When they do, it's in Jack's room so that Shitty doesn't wander in and find Jack missing. (They lock the doors so Shitty doesn't wander in and find something else entirely.) So far, Shitty has only tried to come in once while Bittle was there; he pounded on the bathroom door and seemed to be under the impression that Jack had locked the door by accident. Bittle was able to sneak out into the hall while Jack let Shitty in.

They've talked a lot about the camshows. It's obvious that while they might have started out as an easy way to make a little extra money, Bitty really enjoys them, and Jack doesn't want to take that away from him. He thinks maybe he should be more weirded out than he is at the thought of other guys getting off watching his boyfriend naked, but it's actually pretty hot. All these guys pay for the privilege of watching Bittle on a screen, while he gets the real thing all to himself.

So this is Bitty's first show since they started dating. Last night, Jack left more markings on him—ones the audience will actually get to see this time, since the first ones have faded. They've both been half-hard since they locked Bittle's door and started setting up, turned on by the mere thought that he'll be doing this right in front of Jack this time.

Bitty sets his camera up on a small tripod. He seems to have the angles memorized, knowing exactly where the frame will end. His laptop is next to it, so he can see what the audience is seeing. His phone is on the bed out of frame, ready for chatting. He's taken the case off for filming, so if he slips again it just looks like any other iPhone.

Jack has the channel open on his laptop. He wants to be able to watch Bittle both in person and on the screen, and to see what the chat room is saying. He's in there under the same screen name he always uses, not that he's ever said a word in the chat. The show is scheduled to start in just a couple of minutes, and the room is filling up.

"You ready, sweetheart?" 

When Jack looks up, he sees that Bitty has already stripped his shirt off and is starting on his pants. Jack nods dumbly, fixated on Bitty's hands where they're pulling down his zipper. He watches Bitty's jeans fall to the floor, revealing Samwell red boxer briefs with a significant lump in the front. The lump in Jack's own pants twitches. He's going to be fully hard before Bitty even starts the show.

He reaches forward, pulling Bitty to stand between his knees.

"What if I just give you the money you'd make on the show tonight and you let me blow you?" Jack asks, nuzzling at Bitty's erection.

"That is called prostitution, Mr. Zimmermann," Bitty says, booping Jack's nose, "and that is illegal."

Jack blinks—technically, he's right. Bitty just laughs at his dumbfounded look and pulls away, climbing up onto the bed. Jack watches the way the muscles move under his skin as he does.

Bitty reaches out and turns on the camera, and suddenly there on Jack's laptop is a shot of his boyfriend's lower torso, already drawing catcalls from the chat room. Bitty leans back against the wall, looking relaxed, almost lazy, and runs his hand over his cock through the fabric.

"You know, I changed my mind," he says, his head lolling against the wall in Jack's direction. "I think I do want you naked. You might want to sit on your shirt or something so that chair doesn't stick to your ass."

Jack stands up and strips, Bitty's eyes on his every move. Bitty is stroking himself through his underwear now. When Jack starts to pull his pants down, Bitty tells him to turn around, so he does. He feels slightly awkward, knowing someone is blatantly staring at his ass as he bends over, but the awkwardness is kind of part of the thrill—his discomfort, to a certain extent, is secondary to Bitty's pleasure. He pulls his underwear down as well, and Bitty hums appreciatively at his bare ass. When he turns back around, Bitty is squeezing himself, causing a wet spot to appear on the fabric near the tip of his cock. Jack's tongue tingles with the desire to lick it, but now that would mean putting his head in frame, which he is _definitely_ not doing.

Jack lays his t-shirt down on the chair as instructed and sits back down. He looks over at the chat, which is currently full of people calling for Bitty's underwear to come off. On the video, he can see the outline of the head of Bitty's cock more clearly than from several feet away. But only when he looks away from the screen can he see the way Bitty doesn't take his eyes off him for a second, which is more important.

"What're they sayin'?" Bitty asks. Jack realizes that Bitty really isn't taking his eyes off him, not even long enough to look at his own laptop.

"Uh, mostly they want you to take your underwear off. One guy says he wants to suck you through them, and I gotta admit, I had the same thought. A couple people want you to get into the chat. One wants you to tell them more about me."

Bitty laughs, a low, dark chuckle that makes Jack look up. "Oh, I think they'll hear more about you tonight."

Bitty reaches into his underwear and wraps his hand around himself, pulling slowly. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the wall, biting his lower lip. When he pulls his hand out, the tip of his cock is visible over his waistband. God, Jack wants to taste it so badly. Bitty waits for Jack to make eye contact again, then must read his mind because he runs his own fingertip over his tongue then brings it down to rub at his slit, teasing himself.

Jack is hard as a rock, but they agreed beforehand that he's not allowed to touch himself until Bitty says so. He has yet to slip when Bitty makes him wait, and he doesn't plan to start now.

Finally, Bitty pulls his cock and his balls out of his underwear, but doesn't pull the underwear all the way down yet. The chat room celebrates, several people making requests even though Bitty hasn't asked for them yet. Hell, he hasn't even looked at the chat yet, not that they know that. He strokes himself lightly and slowly, eyeing Jack's cock hungrily.

"Lord, they would love to watch me suck your dick, honey," he says. "Can you imagine? All these guys, watching me stretch my little mouth around that thing?"

Jack whines a little. Bitty's not playing fair here.

Bitty smirks before pulling his underwear down to his knees, and when Jack looks at the screen he can immediately see the marks he left. He smiles as warmth spreads through his chest, the feeling only growing when someone in the chat notices.

"They noticed the marks," he reports. "They're going nuts."

_Fuck where did those come from_

_holy shit can i do that?_

_who got there mouth on u baby_

_who is he? did he fuck u? r u still a virgin?_

_fuck i'd mark you up more than that_

_does he know he fucked a whore?_

That last one gets booted and banned from the channel as soon as Bitty picks up his phone.

 _I see y'all noticed something's a little different tonight_ , he types with one hand as he runs the other over the bruises invitingly. _Turns out I went and got myself an actual boyfriend, and he was feeling a little possessive._

Several people ask if he knows Bitty's still doing the shows, if he's okay with that, if he's letting Bitty do it, _why_ he would let Bitty do it.

 _Of course he knows, he's sitting right here._ He runs his hand up his cock and off it, letting it bounce off his stomach obscenely. _And he's reading every word in the chat. He's generous enough to share me with y'all, so you better be nice to him if you want it to keep happening._

Jack snorts. "Right. I'm the one in charge here."

Bitty grins at him. "Gotta play my part, sweetpea."

There's a flurry of activity, some people saying hi to "Richie's" mysterious boyfriend, several asking if they can watch the boyfriend fuck him, a couple asking if they can still get fantasies about Blue Eyes, and a couple who are over the whole boyfriend thing and calling out requests.

_Okay, settle down. Let's see - I can tell you whatever fantasies about my blue-eyed friend I want, because he's the one who marked me up all pretty for you. No, he won't be fucking me on camera tonight, we're easing into this. But - that is actually one thing we haven't done yet, so my ass is still a virgin for y'all AND… there is definitely a chance we'll eventually let y'all watch when he takes that virginity._

There are a _lot_ of virtual hoots and hollers at that. They've talked about it some; the fact is, neither of them has had anal sex before, and they're not in a huge rush to get there when there are so many other things they can do. But once they do decide to go there, if they're sure they can get the camera angles and everything such that they both stay unidentifiable… Jack might be open to doing it on-camera. He wants to see how tonight goes, and the next few shows. It's entirely possible that he'll be less comfortable with this whole thing than he expects, in which case he won't make Bitty stop but he'll likely stay out of it himself.

Jack noticed a while ago that there are a few different types of people in the chat. There are some who only chat to make requests, some who use the chat to talk dirty as if they think Richie might like that, some who just give color commentary on whatever's happening. And then there are a few who are very into his stories about the blue-eyed friend he's in love with, asking for more details about him (thankfully, Bitty never told them much about Jack specifically, only barely enough for him to see himself in the descriptions), asking for new fantasies or for Bitty to expand on fantasies he's already described, and a couple who seem actively invested in the story, who commiserate with Bitty over his unrequited feelings or share their own tales of crushes on straight guys.

It's that last group who bypass the whole "anal on camera" thing entirely and jump right to things like

_OMFG NO WAY_

_Blue Eyes is fucking GAY? plot twist of the century holy shit_

_On the one hand that sounds too good to be true, but like… somebody sure as hell had their mouth by your dick._

(That group also tends to have the best grammar, Jack has noticed.)

_Somebody had their mouth by his dick but no way was it BE. Richie had a random hookup and he's here to sell a fantasy so he's telling us what we want to hear. Which is fine, but don't like get invested._

_dude ur takin all the fun out of it just shut up and let us pretend_

_can't we all just imagine for one night that somebody's straight crush turned out to be gay? pretend it can happen?_

Bitty laughs. He's starting to stroke himself in earnest now. "What do you think, baby? If you wanna prove you're real, looks like now's a good time. Only if you want to, though, no pressure. I don't really care if they believe me or not."

They talked about this before, too. If Jack might fuck Bitty on camera someday, it'd be good for him to start slow. And right now, it's stirring something inside him—the idea of proving to these random anonymous voyeurs that Bitty is definitely taken and that Jack is in the room, watching their every move. So he _is_ a little possessive, so sue him.

He stands up from the office chair. "Like we talked about?"

"Let's start there and see how you feel," Bitty says with a huge grin.

Jack kneels in front of the bed, just like in Bitty's private fantasy. But instead of sitting back on his heels to watch, he sits up so he can reach across the bed to touch Bitty.

Bitty holds up a finger, telling him to wait. Since Jack can't see the chat anymore, he reads what he's typing out loud as he goes for Jack's benefit.

_Oh, y'all are a riot. Thinking Blue Eyes isn't real, isn't right here in front of me. For the record, it turns out he's bi, not gay, if that makes a difference. So he's dated girls, and I assumed it meant he was straight even though I really should know better than to assume such things. And really, if you had a boy who looked like this, would you let him jerk it in front of a bunch of strangers without being there to supervise?_

"Okay, sweetheart."

Jack reaches out and takes Bitty's dick in a firm grip, pumping it rhythmically.

"Oh my goodness," Bitty says as his eyes fall closed. He had been playing with himself but nothing like this, nothing that would actually go anywhere. Jack isn't here to tease an audience, though; he's here to make Bitty feel good. The fact that these people happen to be watching is just a bonus.

Bitty lets out a soft moan and reaches down with one hand to fondle his balls, then further to press on his perineum. He's got his lower lip between his teeth and it's all Jack can do to keep himself from knocking the camera down and getting his mouth on him.

After a minute, Bitty opens his eyes, though they're still hooded with arousal, and looks at his phone.

"Oh honey, they like this," he says, his voice low and breathy. "Lots of people commenting on how big your hands are. Gotta say I like that, too. _Lots_ of requests for things they want to see you do to me. Which is basically, like, everything, no surprise there."

He closes his eyes again then. He doesn't drop the phone, but he lets his hand fall from in front of his face to near his shoulder, holding the phone against himself. His head falls back and his hips start chasing Jack's hand with little thrusts.

He looks wanton, lost in sensation. He makes delicious, breathy little sounds that make Jack shiver. He's always beautiful, but now, with a flush rising in his cheeks and his cock dark and swollen, Jack is simultaneously thrilled to be the only one who can see him this way and wishing he could show all these guys typing in the chat like they know anything about either of them what they're missing. What they'll continue to miss, because _this_ , all of it, the full picture, is only for _him_.

Jack presses forward into the bed just the tiniest bit. He doesn't try for any friction—he knows Bitty wouldn't be happy if he did—but even the slight bit of pressure helps dull the edge of his desperation just a little.

Suddenly, Bitty's hand is on his. " _Stopstopstop!_ "Jack stops immediately, letting Bitty pull his hand away. "Holy shit, honey, that was feeling a little too good." He types something on his phone. "I think you've earned yourself a little bit of a reward. Why don't you go on back to your chair and you can touch yourself for a bit."

When Jack gets back to the seat, he glances at the chat to see what Bitty said.

_Goodness, had to put a stop to that or my bf was about to make this a very short show!_

The corner of Jack's mouth curls. The thought of all those anonymous guys knowing how easily he can make Bitty come sends something electric through him. He settles back in the chair and looks at Bitty again, who's watching him. He reaches down and gets a hand around himself, groaning a little in relief. He strokes himself slowly, squeezing a little harder than usual, eyes on Bitty the entire time.

He gets maybe seven or eight strokes in before Bitty says, "Okay, honey, that's enough for now." Jack bites his lip and reluctantly pulls his hand away.

"Hmmmm." Bittle scrolls on his phone thoughtfully. He's gone back to just lightly touching himself, just enough to keep the show going. "I'd ask for requests but I've already got a slew of 'em. Do you think you'd be okay getting involved again at some point?"

Jack pushes down his immediate _yes_ and makes himself think for a second. He enjoyed that. A lot. A whole lot. He doesn't regret it. He doesn't feel dirty, or uncomfortable, or any of the things he'd worried he might feel after giving his boyfriend a handjob for a couple dozen viewers on the internet. But he definitely shouldn't take it too much farther without more planning.

"If it's just my hand on camera again, sure," he says.

Bittle turns his back to the camera, sticking his ass out. He doesn't have a plug in tonight.

"I'm gonna play with myself for a little bit, but here in a few minutes would you be up for fingering me?"

The image of his fingers disappearing into Bittle's ass flashes through his mind. "Fuck yes."

Bitty throws him a grin over his shoulder. "I'm glad you're enjoying this. It's really fun being able to talk to you while I'm doing it."

"This is way better than watching online," Jack tells him.

For the next few minutes, Jack just watches Bittle at work. He scoots a bit away from the wall so he can bend over further, and based on a request he spends some time playing with his balls where they're visible hanging between his legs. He pulls and squeezes gently, rolls each one around in his fingers, jerks off a little more so the camera catches them swinging back and forth. Jack keeps looking back and forth between the live show in front of him and the closeup on the screen, mesmerized. He doesn't really get off on this specifically, but it's fun to watch.

After a few minutes of that, Bitty looks over his shoulder again. He looks like some kind of obscene pinup model, back arched, hands against the wall, throwing a come-hither glance behind him. If Jack had a photo of him like this, he'd never need other pornography again.

"Mmm, why don't you grab the lube, baby?" Bitty purrs. "Come on over here and get to work on me."

Jack nods. It takes him a second to pull himself out of his head and stand up. He grabs the lube from the end of the bed, then kneels in front of Bitty again. 

"I get the feeling these guys like to think that you rough me up a little," Bitty says as he turns back to the wall. "So no need to be extra gentle. I'll let you know if anything's too much."

Jack nods again, then realizes that Bitty can't see him anymore and manages a scratchy, "Okay." Before he opens the lube, he reaches out and grabs the globes of Bittle's ass, first one side and then the other. Digs his fingers in, not hard enough to hurt but enough to feel how solid the muscle is. While he's massaging the right side, he runs his thumb down Bitty's crack and over his hole, first with a feather-light touch, then dragging harder across the skin the second time.

Bitty whimpers a little. "You're gonna drive me crazy. C'mon, honey, show these horny perverts what those nice big fingers of yours can do."

Jack slicks up his right index finger. Then, suddenly inspired to put on a bit of a show, he spreads Bitty's cheeks with one hand and lets some lube drizzle down his crack. Bitty giggles and twitches. Jack spreads the lube around, still teasing, rubbing it all around Bitty's hole until he hears a frustrated grunt. Then he slides his slick finger all the way in in one smooth movement.

Bitty cries out, slapping his hand over his mouth to muffle it. He thrusts his ass back against Jack's hand, and then they're moving together, slowly fucking him with Jack's finger. Jack twists his hand a bit, pressing, searching, and he knows he's hit the right spot when Bitty moans into his hand and rakes the nails of his other hand down the wall.

Bitty stills then, letting Jack control the movement, and Jack is careful to keep a steady rhythm against his prostate, slowly speeding up as he goes.

"Fuck, honey," Bitty whispers, moving his hand away. "Oh, fuck, that's—oh my _God_ , Jack."

Jack looks up to see Bitty's head thrown back, his eyes closed as he loses himself in it.

"Do I get to make you come?" Jack asks quietly.

Bitty just nods at first, seemingly incapable of further response. Then he takes a breath and looks down at Jack.

"Hold up just one second," he pants. Jack slides his finger out. "Okay, I'm gonna turn to the side, and I want you to come up here on the bed—out of frame, over to the side here—and get two fingers in me. Honestly, I don't think it'll take long once I start touching myself again— _God_ , Jack, your fingers, I swear."

They shift positions. Bitty keeps a careful eye on his laptop to make sure neither of them ever shows more than they want to. Then he's bracing himself with one hand on the wall at the head of his bed, bent over even farther than before, and Jack can't help imagining what it would be like to fuck him like this. But Jack's dick can barely handle what's right in front of him right now, let alone whatever fantasies he can spin, so he focuses on grabbing the lube and spreading more onto his hand.

Jack takes his time working two fingers in, thrusting in and out just to the first knuckle. When Bitty whines, he slowly starts pressing in farther each time. Just like before, he sets a steady pace, imagining his dick going in and out at that rate instead of his fingers. He digs the nails of his free hand into his own thigh to keep from touching himself; he's achingly hard. It's a state he's learning to enjoy, but he has to overcome the automatic impulse to fix it.

Bitty, on the other hand, does wrap a hand around his own cock, but he doesn't move it yet. Jack smirks at the thought that it's the only way Bitty can drag things out at this point, that Jack is driving him wild enough that he'll come as soon as he moves his hand.

"Fuck, Jack," Bitty pants quietly. "Dear Lord, it's so—you're so—" He trails off into a soft groan.

Then he starts to move his hips, fucking into his hand, and sure enough it only takes three thrusts before Jack is treated to the feel of Bitty clenching around his fingers while long streaks of come spatter the towel laid down on the bed. Bitty groans louder through it, but not loud enough for the sound to make it over his music and out of the room.

Jack must have been doing a good job hitting his prostate, because it's a _long_ orgasm, and there is a _lot_ of come on the towel when Bitty finally collapses forward, leaning his forehead on his hand against the wall as he catches his breath. The movement causes Jack's fingers to slip out of him, and Jack pulls his hand back out of frame.

"Just—just give me one second, sweetheart," Bitty gasps. "Oh my goodness, Jack, that was… Oh my Lord."

"Good?" Jack ventures, smiling as smugly as he wants because Bitty's not looking anyhow.

Bitty laughs, then reaches one hand out semi-blindly and shuts off the camera. He sits back on his haunches and picks up his phone. Jack watches on the laptop screen as he types _Excuse me for leaving so abruptly, but I believe I owe someone a blowjob for getting me off that hard. Hope y'all enjoyed it!_ Then he closes the laptop.

"Is that so?" Jack asks. Bitty turns to him with an oxytocin-drunk smile, slides his arms around Jack's neck and kisses him. Jack's cock is still hard as a rock between them, untouched. When it brushes against Bitty's abs Jack has to clench his teeth so he doesn't make too loud a noise.

"Whatever you want, baby," Bitty says against his mouth. "Anything. I'm all yours."

Jack's hands slide over Bitty's bare shoulder blades as he says, "Just touch me. Just—God, Bits, please just touch me."

He's on the edge as soon as Bitty's hand wraps around him, and he's not sure exactly how many strokes it takes before his orgasm hits but it can't be much more than three, just like Bitty. Jack goes rigid, shaking all over with his face buried against Bitty's neck. It's not long like Bitty's was but it's intense, the waves of pleasure radiating through his whole body.

As soon as he's done, Bitty starts to lie down, shoving the towel off the bed but paying no mind to the mess Jack's made on both their bellies as he pulls Jack down on top of him. He clearly has _ideas_ about how they should be lying, so Jack allows himself to be pushed and prodded until Bitty finally relaxes against him. They're on their sides now, and Bitty has done his best to burrow into Jack, wrapping Jack's arms around him and nudging a knee between Jack's legs. Jack holds him close.

"I love you," Bitty murmurs, mostly into Jack's collarbone. "I love you so much."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the last of it! Honestly, if you can't guess what happens in this chapter, you haven't been paying attention...

"…so I signed last Tuesday, then on Wednesday we got Rans and Holster and Shitty together and told them. Then Lardo the next day, just 'cause she couldn't make it on Wednesday. We haven't told anyone else yet, but since I gave Chowder my dibs we'll have to tell him, and if we're telling him we'll probably have to tell Dex and Nursey, too, but that can all wait."

"How has that been?"

Jack opens his mouth, then pauses. He's not sure he can put into words how much it means to him to be able to be so in love, so freely, in his own home. Sure, they get chirped and fined if they get too sappy in front of the guys, but he thinks that won't last long. Especially after last night, when Ransom tried to fine them for a simple peck on the cheek and Bitty had smoothly sunk down to his knees and reached up for Jack's zipper, saying "Well, if I'm gonna get fined anyhow, might as well make the most of it." Ransom had stuttered something about fines maybe being optional and run out of the room.

"It's amazing," he finally says. "I'm really happy. So is he."

Bittle has been the most cheerful person on the team for a long time, but sometimes Jack gets the feeling that it's a facade that he keeps up even when he's not really okay underneath. Seeing him truly happy, _deeply_ happy, and knowing that Jack is the cause? Jack can't imagine trading that for anything.

"That's wonderful," Janet says, smiling gently. "Any anxiety over it?"

Jack thinks for a moment. "Not right now. Nothing major, at least. I think if Bittle were pressuring me to tell more people it'd be a problem, but he's not at all. I think he was more nervous about telling our friends than I was."

"Good. And if you do have any anxiety, remember that it's not a reflection on your relationship or your feelings for him. It would be normal for anyone to have occasional anxiety when they have to hide so much from so many people—not only the gender of your partner, but the fact that he was a sex worker."

Jack pauses. He's kind of eager to never talk about that part with Janet again, but he also doesn't want to lie to the only person besides Bittle he can be totally honest with.

"Uh. Is. He still is."

Janet, bless her, doesn't betray any surprise on her face. "Ah. You hadn't mentioned that before. How do you feel about the fact that he's still doing the videos?"

Jack shrugs. "I'm fine with it. We went through and changed some things together to make it less likely he'll be identified. But I'm not really worried—I only figured it out because I was already so into him. I guess if there's anyone else on the team who happens to watch his streams and is also in love with him it might be a problem, but…" He trails off with a shrug.

"That's good. Although I was more referring to the idea of your boyfriend performing sexually for other men."

"Oh. I'm… I'm fine with that," Jack mutters, his face heating. He is _not_ telling Janet how much he actually _likes_ it, let alone the fact that he's been in a couple of videos.

Unfortunately, Janet must interpret his mumbling and lack of eye contact as dissembling rather than embarrassment.

"You're sure? It's understandable if you're not totally comfortable with it, even if you don't want to ask him to stop."

"No, it's—" Jack casts around for something safe to say. "He's not actually having sex with someone else. If he were an actor doing sex scenes with other guys, it'd be fine. His audience knows he has a boyfriend now. I'm really fine with it."

He's almost tempted to tell her how Bittle cried when Jack brought up the idea of making a space in Jack's future apartment in Providence for him to do videos. Jack had been baffled—he thought it made perfect sense; Bittle's bedroom walls were just one more thing connecting him to the videos, and they could set up a more anonymous space at Jack's place.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm an idiot," Bittle had sniffled.

"You're not," Jack had insisted, because even if he didn't know what Bittle was reacting to, he knew _that_ wasn't true. "What is it?"

"I just—I guess. I kind of… I wasn't sure you wanted to… it's one thing to date me now, but after you're really a Falconer, I thought maybe…"

"Bits," Jack had said, pulling Bitty close. "I love you. I want to be with you. For a long time. I don't know if _I_ should be in the videos after that, but I will still want to be with you and I'll still be okay with you doing them."

They'd only been together a few weeks at that point, so he hadn't mentioned that he was already pretty damn sure that he wants to spend the rest of his life with Bittle. "A long time" was enough to set Bitty off again anyhow, as well as earning Jack an incredible blowjob after he'd wiped Bitty's tears away.

Janet raises her eyebrows, seemingly impressed. "That's a very mature way of looking at it. But remember, if you ever do get uncomfortable with any of it—"

"I'll talk to him," Jack promises. "I don't want to tell him what to do, but I'll let him know how I feel."

—

For once there's no kegster in the Haus this weekend, so everyone else is off at other people's parties. Nobody was surprised that Jack didn't want to go, but they did try to talk Bitty into coming. He'd claimed to have a stomach bug and said he felt like a single beer would make him barf. Shitty definitely seemed to suspect that they were skipping the party to have sex, but at least he didn't voice these suspicions in front of the others, and he didn't appear to have any idea of _exactly_ what they're planning.

They've got all the equipment set up—camera, tripod, laptop, lube, towels. Jack is sitting at the other end of Bitty's bed with his back against the wall and Bitty straddling his lap, both naked as they make out while waiting for the channel to fill up.

Jack runs his fingers down Bitty's crack until they brush the plug he has in, keeping him open and ready for Jack so they won't have to deal with that part on camera. He presses on the plug a little and Bitty moans into his mouth, the sound going straight to his already-hard dick.

Bitty pulls back enough to look at his phone. Jack nibbles on his neck. "Almost showtime," he says, sounding a little breathless. "Looks like it's standing room only! Maybe I shoulda charged even more."

Bitty has taken full advantage of the fact that this is something his viewers have been clamoring for, and this stream will cost nearly three times the usual amount to watch. It's been months, and Jack is still surprised at how much the idea of dozens of strangers watching them fuck turns him on.

Bitty hands him an earpiece. They've tested this equipment thoroughly—it does a great job of disguising their voices without making them sound robotic. Bitty hasn't wanted to use it for any other sessions, because most of what he says is intended for Jack's ears only, but he thought if he's going to do a special show he should go all-out. Jack puts the earpiece in.

"Testing, testing," Bitty says, and Jack can hear his computerized voice through his own earpiece. It'll be a little weird, hearing that while they're having sex, but Jack is definitely horny enough to tune it out. He tests his as well, and it all seems to be working as planned so far.

Bitty leans over and kisses him gently. "Okay, honey, why don't you have a seat?"

Jack nods and moves from the bed to Bitty's office chair, and fuck if his body isn't developing a Pavlovian response to sitting in that chair, waiting for Bitty to tell him what to. He watches his boyfriend check all the equipment one last time before turning the camera on.

"Hey, y'all!" Bitty says, facing the camera and lightly fingering the head of his dick. Jack doesn't touch his own yet. He's not allowed. He looks over at his own laptop on the desk, sees the excited crowd in the chat room. It's moving way too quickly to read everything today, but Bittle isn't planning on taking requests anyhow. "Glad to see so many of you here for this very special show. I hope you don't mind hearing me instead of me talkin' in the chat room like usual." According to the chat responses, they _do not_ mind. Bitty starts stroking his dick a little more purposefully, one hand coming up to play with a nipple the camera can't see. He's looking at Jack lazily, head lolling against the wall behind him.

"This show is special because not only is my boyfriend joining me, and I know how you all love that—today, you all get to watch while he takes my virginity." Jack smirks. Even if you only count penetrative sex as losing one's virginity, it's a half-truth at best. Bitty has fucked Jack several times now (including once with Jack's wrists tied to the bed, and holy hell they are doing that again soon). This will just be the first time he's _bottomed_. But the viewers like hearing it this way. 

"I swear to y'all, I've never had a dick inside me before." He turns around to show his ass to the camera, and plays with the plug a little. "I've had fingers, I've had plenty of these little babies, and of course a few other, larger toys. But I have yet to be pounded into the mattress by my big, strong, muscle-bound jock of a boyfriend. I swear, y'all will _die_ when you see his cock." He looks over his shoulder at Jack, and Jack's hands twitch on his thighs. Said cock is currently straining for relief, but has nothing but air to rub against. "It's big and thick like him, and so nice and smooth. God, I just love taking it all the way down my throat." The truth is, Bitty is still working on his gag reflex, but he's very motivated. He _wants_ to deep throat Jack so badly, and he's getting close. "I can't wait to feel it slide into my ass."

Jack tears his eyes away from Bitty long enough to glance at the chat. It's about what you would expect. Lots of people are calling for Jack to make his appearance.

Bitty draws things out a little, teasing himself with the plug. His audience is going nuts over being able to hear him whimper and moan while he does it; so is Jack, to be honest. He's never wanted to get his hands—his entire body—on Bittle so badly, and he's spent a lot of time lately wanting to touch his boyfriend.

Finally, Bitty taps the mute button on his earpiece, and Jack does the same so that Bitty's voice isn't picked up by it.

"Okay, honey, I think they've had enough of a preview. You ready? Still up for this?"

"Fuck yes," Jack breathes, eyes fixed on Bitty's fingers where they're still playing over the plug.

"Okay," Bitty says. "Just like we've practiced. Boss me around a little, maybe. Do whatever you want, as long as it won't mess up the camera framing. I'll let you know if I don't like it. You know what to say if there's a problem?"

Jack nods. His mouth is a little dry. "Yellow to mute the mics and check in, red to turn off the cameras immediately."

"That's right. Either one of us can slow things down or back out any time. Even if I have to refund everyone's money. Now, come on over here and get this thing out of me." The looks he gives Jack as he leans into the wall, ass sticking out, makes Jack's dick twitch again.

They turn the earpieces back on as Jack settles onto the edge of the bed and reaches out to run a finger down Bitty's crack, his hand now on camera.

"Fuck," he mutters as he stops at the plug and gently presses on it. He can only imagine how the chat room is responding to finally hearing _his_ voice. "Look at you."

"I hope you're gonna do more'n look, honey."

Jack looks Bitty right in the eye, then twists the plug in just the right way to rub it hard against his prostate. When Bitty lets out a yelp, he hums in satisfaction.

He works the plug in and out a bit, knowing that the audience is paying by the minute and won't want to watch _too_ much of this before the main event. When he finally pulls it out to reveal Bittle's open, wet hole, he moans despite himself.

He stands up and grabs the lube, coating himself liberally. He wonders if the audience can hear the squishing sounds over the earpieces.

Finally, he wipes his hands off and grabs the camera. They've gone over this several times, working out exactly how to keep anything identifiable out of the frame. He's confident as he turns the camera down so that just the tip of his cock, jutting out rock hard and wanting, dripping with lube and precome, comes into frame.

"Look how fucking hard you've got me," he says. "Just looking at that ass." He turns the camera back on Bittle and gives said ass a firm smack. "Now get down on your hands and knees so I can fuck you."

Before he does, Bittle momentarily reaches back and grabs Jack's hair, out of sight of the camera. He yanks Jack's head back, making Jack moan, and holds it there for just a second before smirking and letting go. They can play at Jack bossing him around for show, but he clearly doesn't want Jack to forget for one second who's really in charge—not that Jack wants to, either. He only wants to tell Bitty what to do so he can play the role Bitty himself gave him, so he can prove how good he can be even when he's told to do things that don't necessarily come naturally to him.

Jack carefully watches the screen of the camera while Bitty changes positions, making sure nothing above his waist is in the shot. Bitty settles in, ass in the air and head down on this forearms, Jack zooming in on his waiting hole.

Jack climbs onto the bed behind him and carefully films his own fingers sliding in and out. He can get two in easily, Bitty is so loose and ready, and he adds a third after just a minute or two. They're both moaning and grunting, the occasional mindless obscenity falling out of their mouths. Now and then he pulls his fingers out and gets a shot of himself stroking his cock with his lube-covered hand.

He pulls his fingers out for the last time and adjusts the camera so that his own dick is visible right behind Bittle's ass. He strokes it a few times. "Fuck, I want you," he says, squeezing himself. "Every guy watching this wishes he was me right now. But you're mine, all mine, and I'm the only one who'll ever get to do this." He somehow manages to keep the camera steady as he presses the head of his dick into Bitty's hole, and is rewarded with a loud moan. 

"Okay so far?" Jack asks, his breath coming hard as he struggles not to push further into the warm, wet embrace.

Bitty nods. "More," he says, and Jack has never heard him sound so needy.

Jack gives him more, sliding in slowly, inch by inch, sometimes pulling back just a little before going in a little further. Capturing every second of it on camera, zoomed in.

He's glad they decided to record this stream, just for the two of them. He'll be spending so much time away from Bittle soon, and he knows he'll be watching this _a lot_.

When he's all the way in, he zooms out a little as Bittle takes a couple of deep breaths and adjusts. He lets his hips twitch a few times, just a little bit, and the sounds Bittle makes are incredible. After checking that the camera angle is good, Jack looks away from it, tilting his head all the way back, eyes closed, focused entirely on the feeling of the tight ass surrounding him, pulling him in. He digs the fingers of the hand without the camera into the hard muscle of Bittle's cheek, not sure how much longer he can stay still.

"Okay," Bitty finally says. "Fuck me. Please, honey, fuck me." Jack is usually the one begging, but he likes the desperate edge to Bitty's voice right now. Bitty has pushed himself up onto this hands, and starts to rock a little, fucking himself back onto Jack if Jack won't move quickly enough.

Jack pulls back smoothly, nearly all the way out, then starts to pump slowly, each stroke long and deliberate. He's sure it's as agonizingly delicious for Bittle as it is for him, given the sounds they're both making. He bites his lip and watches himself slide in again through the camera, and the thought of all those people watching right at this second sends a new wave of blood to his dick. He grunts and starts to pick up the pace a little.

He changes the angle just a bit, leaning forward and bracing himself with one hand on Bittle's back, and the slight change has clearly made a big difference for Bittle's prostate. Bitty cries out, hitting the pillow, a string of half-coherent babble coming out of him. It's a good thing they've practiced not using each other's names during sex, because Bitty manages to slip almost every pet name you can think of in there without a single _Jack_.

Jack, meanwhile, has the camera trained on his dick but is watching his boyfriend writhe in front of him while he starts fucking him harder and faster. He's not sure how much longer he can last—they jerked each other off earlier in the day so hopefully they'd last longer, but this is better than he'd imagined. Tighter, for one thing, and god does he love watching Bittle's face twist in ecstasy.

"I should—" Bitty pants, "I should get the second camera."

Jack slams into him one more time and then stills, dick buried in his ass. "Fuck, do it quick," he groans.

They didn't want to do this the whole time, because it would probably get knocked over and who knows what else, but they both know it won't be more than a few more minutes before they come. Bitty takes his phone and pulls up the camshow app, and within thirty seconds he's got it propped on a stand beneath him, trained on his bouncing dick as Jack starts to fuck him again. Jack glances over to the laptop, and can see that the stream is now a split screen, a feed from each camera on either side. These people really are getting a premium show.

He grunts and picks up the pace, and he can't help looking over at the feed of Bittle's dick. He's the one making it move like that as he fucks him, he's the reason it's leaking like crazy, enough that you can see it gleam even in the poor lighting underneath Bitty.

Jack moans. "God, you have such a great ass," he says, "so fucking tight. Just like I knew you would be. You feel so fucking good, I'm gonna come soon."

"Oh God, yes," Bittle whines. "Let me feel it drip out of me, baby."

He doubts they'd be saying these things if they weren't on camera, but at the same time none of it feels forced or faked. Right now, he's fucking his gorgeous boyfriend, but he's also putting on a show, and somehow those two things melt together in his mind rather than distracting from each other.

"Not 'til you come," he pants. "Wanna watch you on that screen over there."

Bitty immediately grabs his dick, and Jack watches as his hand moves in time with Jack's hips. For a moment or two, they're quiet except for occasional grunts, Jack fucking fast and hard enough that it's becoming a little hard to see what's happening on his side of the split screen, but he's beyond caring about that right now. He's focused on dragging his dick across Bittle's prostate as much as he can, on making sure that Bittle gets his orgasm first.

"Oh yeah—yeah—" Bitty's hand speeds up on his dick, and Jack tries to focus on keeping his rhythm steady, but it's only a few more seconds before he gasps as Bitty's ass tightens around him. He looks over to watch Bitty's dick as he comes everywhere; some of it even gets on the camera. It's fucking amazing.

Jack moves faster, fucking Bitty through his orgasm, but he can't last any longer than that. Bitty's last spasms push him over the edge, and he buries himself deep, not caring that the camera is basically just showing an expanse of zoomed-in skin as he feels his dick pulse and spill into his boyfriend in waves.

Neither of them moves for a minute afterward, just trying to catch their breath. Jack is absentmindedly rubbing Bitty's lower back in circles.

Once he's recovered enough to think clearly, he straightens up and starts paying attention to the camera again. He slowly pulls out, and gets a shot of his come dripping out of Bittle's hole. Bittle clenches and pushes more out, and fuck, Jack wants nothing more than to lick it up. He mutes his earpiece and pulls it out.

"Can we turn off the cameras?" he asks, sounding a little dazed.

"I hope y'all enjoyed the show," Bitty says, addressing the invisible audience. He's still breathing heavily. "We sure as hell did." He nods, and Jack can see him fiddling with the phone under him as Jack turns off the camera, double-checks that it's really, really off, and sets it aside.

Then Jack leans in and licks his come off of Bitty, tongue sliding up his perineum and over his hole as he moans in surprise.

"Oh, honey," Bitty breathes. "If I hadn't already come twice today…"

Jack chuckles and pulls Bitty back by the hips until he's in Jack's lap. He leans back into it as Jack wraps his arms around him and nuzzles at his neck.

Bitty sighs, relaxing into Jack's arms. "Love you so much, sweetpea."

Jack hums. "I love you, too. God, you're gorgeous. No wonder all these guys pay to look at you. And they don't even get to see the best parts."

"Mmmm. You?"

Jack laughs. "Not even close." He nips at Bittle's skin as he continues. "Your eyes. The way you look at me when you want me. Your _shoulders_ , they never get to see your shoulders."

Bittle snorts as Jack kisses said shoulders. "My shoulders. Huh. Come to think of it, I do like your shoulders. Good place to watch those muscles move."

"I wish you'd stay with me for the summer," Jack says, pulling Bittle even closer on his lap. Jack graduates next week, and the idea of not seeing Bittle every day, not sleeping with him every night, is painful. Sure, he'll have to get used to it eventually, but can't he get used to it this fall?

"I know," Bitty says with a sigh. "I wish I was, too. But it'd be impossible to explain to my parents without telling them, and I'm just…"

"I know," Jack says softly, kissing his ear. "I understand."

"Next summer," Bitty says firmly. Jack smiles at his conviction that it will still be an issue next summer. "Hopefully I'll have gotten up the guts to talk to them, but if not, I'll say I found a really good job in Providence and you're kindly letting me stay with you. And it's not like we won't see each other at all this summer."

Bitty is "helping Jack and Shitty get all moved and settled in" for a week after graduation—the Bittles don't need to know that Shitty is just moving back into his mom's house until his Cambridge apartment opens up on September 1. Then Jack is coming to Madison for the fourth of July, and then Bitty is coming back a week before he has to be on campus. All told, their longest stretch apart will be five weeks, which isn't as bad as all summer but is five weeks more than Jack wants it to be.

Jack keeps one arm wrapped around Bittle's waist, but moves the other hand so he can tangle their fingers together. "I think I should tell my parents."

Bitty startles, twitching in Jack's embrace, then twists to look at him with big eyes. "You sure, sweetpea?"

"It's dumb for you to wait a day to come down to Providence just so they won't know," Jack says. "I want all the time I can get together."

"I'd love to come down a day earlier, but I don't want you feelin' pushed into anything just so we can get one more day."

"I think I'm ready," Jack says. He is, for this. Georgia Martin is coming to his graduation, and to lunch with him and his parents afterward, and he's not quite ready to introduce Bittle to _her_ as his boyfriend yet. But he thinks his parents will be happy for them.

"Let's discuss this more in the shower," Bittle says, pushing up onto his knees. "I am a _mess_ and I think I'm gettin' you messy, too."

—

"Hey, sweetheart! Good game tonight, how're you feeling?"

Jack settles in on his hotel bed, phone in one hand and laptop in the other.

"A little sore still, but just a little. I'll be fine tomorrow. Did you finish your essay?"

"Of course," Bitty replies easily. "I had excellent motivation."

Jack had told him they could only do this tonight if he finished the essay first. He doesn't think it was a particularly stringent requirement, considering the fact that the essay is due tomorrow morning, but he wouldn't put it past Bittle to do an 11pm stream and _then_ start his homework.

Jack opens his laptop. "Great. I'm putting you on speaker."

He does so, and sets the phone down next to him as he loads the channel for the livestream.

"Okay, honey, I want you to take your pants off, but after that you don't touch anything below your waist until I tell you, got it? Leave your underwear on."

"Okay."

Jack moves the laptop to one side so he can pull off his pajama pants. When he'd told Tater he wasn't going out tonight because he'd promised he'd Skype with Bitty, he'd gotten a knowing look.

"Okay, Zimmboni, but our curfew midnight. I not come back before then, but I be back at midnight whether you like or no."

Tater long ago decided that the only reason Jack would want to stay in his room and Skype with his boyfriend instead of going to a bar after a game must be for Skype sex, and Jack long ago learned that the more he argues, the worse the chirping gets. Besides, he's not always wrong, and when he's not, Jack is glad to know he won't come back early.

Once he's got the laptop settled back over his bare legs, he says, "Okay, my pants are off. Anything else?"

"That'll do, sugar. Now look, when I say no touching, you know I mean it. No adjusting yourself in those underwear, got it?"

"I know better than to touch anything I'm not supposed to," Jack reassures him. His dick is already twitching at the idea that, even if it gets uncomfortable as it hardens, he can't do anything to relieve it.

"Okay, it's about that time."

Bittle turns the camera on, and Jack can't quite help the noise that escapes his throat when he realizes that the wall behind Bittle's torso is not his room at the Haus.

"You okay?"

"You're, uh. In Providence."

"Oh. Yeah. …Is that okay?"

"It's great," Jack says. It's not the first time Bittle has done a stream there, but it's the first time (as far as Jack knows) that he's done one there while Jack wasn't in town. "That's why I gave you the keys. I mean, maybe not that specifically, but so you can be there when I'm gone. And I think this is a very, very good use for them."

"Oh you do, do you?" Jack watches as Bitty spreads his legs a little, reaching down between them to fondle himself. "Well, I thought it was appropriate, since I'm gonna be showin' off that little toy you surprised me with. Now, honey, why don't you get comfy with your hands back behind your head? Just so you're not tempted."

Jack grins as he does as he's instructed and Bittle starts typing in the chat room. Bittle has already decided that he doesn't want to do these streams anymore once he graduates, but that's over a year away, and Jack intends to enjoy this while it lasts.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/PorcupineGirl8), [Tumblr](http://porcupine-girl.tumblr.com), or [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/PorcupineGirl)!


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